#FatherDaughter

[cring3rlordreal]

Another rodger n toodles

Lol

Imagine twisted rodger with eyeslashes like... slay slay slay, hot bitch day idk

[clairebishop6226]

You have Daddy issues? well they don’t care

[rizuluv]

Doodle Father, Daughter Morningstar ♥️🍎

[consanguinamorose]

I know this is really weird to say, but I really hope you aren't bait. So many consangs I've seen on here have been bait, and it's been a bit heartbreaking as someone who has been outcast and ridiculed quite a bit for their love and simply wants to see others who have similar experiences. I hope you and your beloved have a wonderful week!

I totally understand your concerns, I also notice the same thing regarding other consang spaces such as in certain subreddits. But I’m here to assure you that I’m not a bait, I’m just here to share my story to the world.

This is especially so since I don’t live in the USA, to show that in majority countries of the world having a consang relationship is not outlawed — for some it’s completely legal (usually with caveats) and for some other (which is the case in my country) it’s not technically legal, but there’s no law regulating it either, so technically also not illegal.

I’m really sorry to hear about your terrible experiences just because of loving someone, I really feel for you since my dad and I are also keeping our relationship behind closed doors.

Here is a picture of me and my dad, if it helps to dispel your doubts you may Google reverse image search it. I haven’t uploaded the picture anywhere before.

Thank you so much for your kind support, I hope you have a wonderful week too!

[winters-mistress]

Injury

Geralt was exhausted. Purely, undoubtedly, utterly exhausted. His eyes burn with the lack of rest, his whole body shuddering each time he blinks. By the gods, he wants to close his eyes, but if he does, he might not see her wake up, he might be dead to the world and she may need him.

No, his resolve strengthens, he cannot rest until she wakes.

It had started as a simple day, one the sake as any other. Wake, run a cold flannel down his face, guzzle down a bowl of porridge that bubbles at the fireplace, before pulling his cloak on to watch Ciri on the pendulum.

Lambert had accompanied him, which wasn't unusual at all. Vesemir had wanted the youngest Witcher to have a taste of training, as both Geralt and Eskel had overseen the pups for a few months before they left for the path. Lambert, however, had not. He had been eager to leave the moment Rennes had deemed him worthy of it, free from the horrors and the ghosts of Kaer Morhen. And by the time he was mature enough to be considered, it was too late, the sacking had obliterated all the poor pups who had the unfortunate fate of being in the halls at the time.

He had been good with Ciri, all things considered. A little prickly at first, but Ciri had thrown a rock at him when he had insulted her a little too far. After that, and the spitfirey attitude to her training -to keep getting up each and every time she fell down- Lambert had warmed to her.

What does Lamb think now? Geralt wonders. Is he guilt ridden and drunk? Pissy and ignorant? Or is he skittish and bristle, thinking the white wolf himself would leap out and throttle him?

It was an accident, it had to be. Had his brother simply mistimed when to unleash the dangling sack for Geralt's child to dodge? He had never done it before, but it can't have been purposeful. Ciri and Lamb got along, he never would have hurt her on purpose. If he had, Geralt didn't know his brother at all, but he was confident he did. The witchers code, a shared history, a shared sacrifice, bound by brotherhood and unified by their profession.

But the fact remained the same, the sack had hit the blindfolded girl, her body crumbling instantly, smacking the wooden beam with her head, and collapsing against a pile of rocks when she finally slipped down, neither witcher quick enough to catch her.

She was supposed to dodge, she's dodged a thousand times. Lambert was supposed to be in sync, he'd been in sync a thousand times. Geralt was supposed to catch her, why wasn't he -the strongest, twice mutated witcher- quick enough to catch the falling body of his girl?

Ciri's golden hair was marred by blood. Even if her eyes weren't shut by unconsciousness, then the left was strewn shut by a marred, deep bruise. He can't see her forehead, it's bound in bandages to support the wound at the back of her head.

She's still breathing, though. He can hear it, see it. Her lungs fill slowly with hair, exhaling after a beat, and that for one, is normal and gentle and regular.

Geralt himself had picked her up from her impact zone, his left arm's skin and sleeve is still crumbly from where her blood had dried. Cradled like a babe, the two witchers ran back to the keep, hollering for Vesemir and Eskel, Coën bringing up the rear when they set her in the long since abandoned infirmary.

She's human, she shouldn't have survived an impact like that, he knows, but he watches her inhale and exhale. She's still here, still with him. Still strong and unbelievable and mighty and mysterious and a thousand other words Geralt doesn't have the time to think of.

Is it her magic? The thing she's alluded to many times, is that keeping her alive? Or was it some miracle, an act of the gods to cushion her head from the three large blows that would have taken out another without question?

It doesn't matter how she's here, all that matters is that she is here. Geralt leans foreward and takes her hand, small and soft, pushing bloody matted hair from her face.

"You'll be okay," he whispers. They've done all they can, closed and disinfected the wound, change the bandages a few times every day, drip milk and broth down her throat to keep her sustained. It's all a waiting game now. Either she will wake, or she will not.

"It's like an echo." A voice says.

Geralt jumps.

"What?" The white wolf turns, seeing the oldest witcher in the doorway.

"You look like I did, waiting for you and your brothers to wake after your grasses." He says. Geralt winces, never one to wish to remember those days.

He supposes he must do. A large, white haired man sitting over the bed of an injured pup, who's fate is in the hands of the gods now.

"Any change?"

"Not a thing. She doesn't even toss or turn with nightmare, she's just-" his voice trails, licking his lips as he watches the girl once more.

Vesemir walks over and presses a hand to Ciri's cheek.

"No fever, no infection." He nods. "That's good."

"Yeah." Geralt sighs, leaning back in his chair, listening as it croaks underneath his weight.

"Rest, wolf." Vesemir whispers, his hand finding his middle son's hair.

Geralt knows it's Axii, but before he can fight it, his body betrays him, sinking into the chair.

"Rest, son." He says. "I will wake you if she does."

And the grand, grey wolf of Kaer Morhen takes up vigil, watching his son and his granddaughter rest.

[melorzo]

Happy father's day:)))

I loved drawing this one- until I needed to render the face...... 

[kuai-kuai]

Instead of writing what I wanted to write for the past few days I instead made a VIDEO. GAME.

Yes, that's right. Fatherdaughter can become video game.

Except there's nobody getting it on with their father. 😢

Check it out anyways, if you want.

It's a really short and shitty visual novel. CWs on the itch page itself don't worry.

[countryroadsstakemehome]

just read ‘Someday I’ll Love Ocean Vuong’ by Ocean Vuong and i can’t stop thinking about it, poets have really comforted us for centuries and still continue to do so, it’s like they’re saying ‘i know you, i don’t know you but i know you, i see your pain, i know your heartache, and i love you and i want you to continue through it n despite it.’

[yellowmanula]

My Dad turned 87! Feel free to send your best wishes 🥰

[shivorcee]

and a bujo collage I made immediately after the previous one about my father

[maxthedrawingperson]

NEW ACE ATTORNEY ANIMATION SHORT OUT NOW!!!

[clairebishop6226]

I AM NOT OK 🤧

[peterstraubel]

[consanguinamorose]

May I ask how your relationship with your dad started?

Basically after kinda testing the waters a little bit and seeing that my dad didn’t have any aversion towards what i did, I randomly just shoot my shot when we were lounging around on the couch in the living room.

I didn’t go for the straight-shooter statement (like “I’m in love with you” and whatnot), since I’ve always been a shy one when it comes to feelings in a romantic relationship.

What I did was brought up about how I’ve been saving myself for ‘the one’ (which is VERY unusual for someone my age in the first place already — but it’s true, I think dating just for the sake of dating and not dating seriously with the intention of getting married would just be a pain in the ass, from the stories of my friends, since I was in high school up until adulthood).

When he asked about who that might be (referring to ‘the one’) I just answered, “what if it’s you?”

And well, the rest is history.

[deadartista]

When it rains....

No matter where I am in the world, the scent of rain brings me back to the balcony of our home where, whenever it rains, I would stand alongside my father, admiring the weather. We would find the rain beautiful and calming even if the sky would be grey with clouds and roaring with thunder. My father would be there, spending time on insignificant things like watching the rain with me and talking about how fascinating the universe is. So when it rains, it reminds me that there still exists someone who will listen to me even when I'm silent.

[doodloos]

More wholesome cowboy art! Here's Felix with his daughter, Suzanne!