#ghs kin

[sorcerer-edits]

neko zombie (gregory horror show) moodboard for anon!

[be4utiful4byss]

godbless this looks kind of ass but my attempt at drawing him decently for the first time

[narcobarbies]

Bobbie Spencer, Our Forever Friend | General Hospital (January 3rd, 2024)

[howlsnteeth]

hoof beats go trotting, trotting up to heaven, bold

[ghclassic]

[8golden-harvest8]

My Pinkie Pie kinsona of sorts, Party Time!

The chocolate chip coat patches pattern was not planned but I kinda like it

I’m kinda scared that she looks too cluttered but eh fuck it-!

I love her ;w;

[allmo247]

[ghmusings]

what a shame!

Kin posted this recent Tweet on his official Twitter page. What the heck is going on at GH?? They just lost Jackie, now they are getting rid of another OG, just when GH is celebrating it’s 60th anniversary?? If you don’t like this decision, post it on General Hospital’s official Twitter page. I personally wanted him to get back together with Liesl!

[lovelovelovelovelove987654321]

Neighbors

Part 1 Part 2

Tw: female reader, mention of Y/N

Proofread by the lovely @crashtestbunny

Ghost sighed as he signed the paperwork to rent a shitty flat. He sighed as he unloaded the boxes from his car, and he sighed as he stepped into the apartment. It matched him, he thought. The cobwebs, the dust, the watermarks, the stains on the carpet and the walls. It all matched his rotting soul. He didn't love the situation, but since when did he deserve to love anything? It was a place to leave his things when he was deployed. It would keep him (mostly) dry and warm, hopefully.

He let the maggots that lived in his brain slither around for a moment before shoving them back. He needed to unpack, and then eat. Get things done. Have a plan of action. Thats how he functioned best. Take off the mask? He briefly considered it, then shook his head sharply. He hadnt cleared the space of cameras yet.

Just then, he heard a knock on the door. Immediately alert to danger, he mentally cataloged the guns and knives he had hidden on various parts of his body. Slowly he opened the door to see his savior. You. With a bright smile and a Tupperware of cookies in hand, you shoved a ray of sunshine and and life right into the endlessly deep pit of darkness that was his brain. He liked no one, absoluetly no one, but he liked you already.

"Hi!" You chirped, "I'm your neighbor! I brought cookies!"

He forgot how to speak for a moment. You were... everything. He gruffly cleared his throat, he wanted to make his voice a little gentler for you. He didn't want to be anything less than perfect for you.

"'Ello. Thanks." He grunted, then cursed himself inwardly. He'd scare you off and he'd never seen you again and he'd have to live with the poison inside of him all alone forever and-

"'Course!" Your smile hadn't faded at all. In fact, it might be bigger. Brighter. More beautiful.

There was a slight awkward pause where Ghost wracked his brains for something, anything to say.

"Weathers been-" "My name is-"

Your smile turned sheepish, a little amused, maybe.

"You can go first." You said, and he wanted to hold you close, tell you everything and nothing all at once because his past had no place here, in your vicinity, but maybe he could tell you a happy memory or two and make you laugh?

"No, you 'kin go." He would let you talk over him forever, if you wanted. He wished he could listen to your voice 24/7/365. Record it and play it on repeat.

With a grateful look, you started again. "My name is Y/N. What's yours?"

A name a name a name a name a name. He had a name for you. It fit. Beautiful, just like you.

"Gh- Simon. The names Simon Riley." He was Ghost. To everyone. Even Soap wasn't allowed to call him Simon, Soap didn't even know he was Simon. Simon was the gentle, innocent, helpless, young boy he used to be. Simon wasn't him anymore.

But for you, he could be. Maybe. He hoped he could be. He could try, anyway.

He didn't want to be Ghost around you. Ghost, who would infect you with his dirty soul. Ghost, who hurt everything he touched, Ghost, who didn't feel. Ghost, who didn't care. Ghost, who was everything that he wanted your life to be free of.

[helluva-high]

my friend got me into rodamrix’s among us series recently and im so ill for these guys i love them sm

also hi im gh red alternate kin? methinks gh yeah blue my bf ok bye i love them

[tartsinarat]

More memes because my designing is not designing for Nimbus :/ but anyways I decided to start doing some “season 2” stuff because that’s the part with the most juicy drama so here’s the slight redesigns of season 2a! hexside trio + Pip’s season 2a design because I was in a silly mood

POV; the gang gives you some kind affirmations :)

Also like creator, like grimwalker… Pip does have slight murderous impulses lmaooo

look at the GH au masterpost or lest ye hounds be set upon your land and your kin

[sketcheddaydreams]

Hihi!! Can we have a tree level of any human fnaf fictive?? Ty if you’ll do this!! Understandable if you won’t!!

Thank you for your request!! we are SO sorry for how long this took, and we hope you enjoy your human fnaf headmate!

[disclaimer: we knew very little about this source and the characters so we apologize for any and all inaccuracies]

|| New plant incoming ||

Character: Charlotte Emily

Name[s] - Charlotte, Charlie, Emily, Emi, Marionette, Puppet, Monette, Mazye, Emilyn 

Age - ChronoAge: 12-15 // PermaAge: 17-20

Gender[s] - GirlFlip[Girl to Agender + GenderFae], Marionettemistress, Puppetic, Iloric, Melancholiangelic, Sadbodiment, ExpressionFluid, Protecticxeno, Gaurdiangender, Distressic

Sexuality[s]/Orientation - Birose[sexual/romantic], Hyperplatonic, Anaesthetic

Role[s] - Caretaker/Caregiver, Masker, guilt holder, Hypoempathy [hyper empathy] holder

3rd person pronouns - she/her, sh3/h3r, tei/ter, sae/saer, e/em, thxy/thxm, puppet/puppetself, mari/marionette, string/strings, help/helper, pro/protect, li/life, de/death, bre/breath, last/lastself, cry/cries, sob/sobs, hope/hopeless, venge/vengeance, bo/bold, guard/guardian, dis/distress, 💔/💔s, 🎭/🎭s, 🔪/🔪s, 💧/💧s, ☂️/☂️s 

2nd person pronouns - you/yours/yourself, puppet/puppeteers/puppeteerself, fea/fears/fearself, protect/protectors/protectorself, tea/tears/tearself, distress/distressers/distresserself, mar/marionettes/marionetteself, mask/maskers/maskerself

1st person pronouns - I/me/my/mine/myself, pi/pup/puppet/puppetine/puppetself, pro/pre/pry/protect/protectorself, up/ups/upset/upsetine/upsetself, lo/lov/love/lover/loveself, ho/hop/hope/hopeine/hopeself, gho/ghos/ghost/ghostine/ghostself, po/poss/possess, possessine/possessself 

Species - Human // Human Ghost // Transspecies: Puppet/Marionette

Source [if applicable] - FNAF [Charlotte Emily]

Likes - helping people, vengeance, paranormality, dramatic theater[/etc] masks, the rain, building robots, entertaining kids

Dislikes - seeing the innocent hurt/killed, funerals, being alone, shallow water, blank paper

Typing quirk - adds an extra “s”, replaces “o” with “*” [e.g pi wass trying t* help but they ign*red h*p… l* h*pe l* didn’t sscare them.]

Fun fact - Stays up late cleaning after parties/events/or just when things have gotten messy, so that when others get up everything is clean and ready for them [either irl or–most likely–headspace]. 

Kin list - Trans[species]Marionette/Puppet, WaterVapor[object?]Kin, Crying[concept]Kin, Avian[CladoTherian], Bowhead WhaleKin, Vampire BatHearted, Porcupine[therian]

Fave time of day - Morning [7:23 am or 07:23 for military time]

Faceclaim -

[1 // 2]

CisIDs - CisGhost, CisPale, CisDepressed, CisAPD, CisProtective, CisBrownHair, CisTeen, CisFearful, CisHighIQ, CisUnconditionalLover, CisHelpful, CisBrownEyes

TransIDs - Trans[species]Puppet/Marionette, PermaRaining, TransPierced, TransRedHead, TrisEyeBags, TransFloaterHead, TransCrushedRibs, Quasisolwireamian, TrisPTSD, TransLovesick, LoveAbled, TransAmputee, PermaAge[17-20yrs], TransMaturity, TransNullChildhood

Paras - FictoAAM //⚱️// 👻 // 🔪🫀

Other ids - OpLD, ImDD, NeuroXenic, RebornQueer

Violence level - 3.88

Journal entry - “gh* g*t t* ssee a l*t *f kidss t*day… h*wever m*sst *f them were unwell, pi wissh pi c*uld help them. But n* w*rriess, pr* will when they inevitably passs *r perhapss mask c*uld try and prevent them fr*m passsing? L*’d have t* l**k m*re int* that as medical sstuff hass never been pry thing… Maybe a machine w*uld help! Well up g*tta g* w*rk *n that, ssee ya!”

[translation: “gho got to see a lot of kids today… however most of them were unwell, pi wish pi could help them. But no worries, pro will when they inevitably pass or perhaps mask could try and prevent them from passing? Lo’d have to look more into that as medical stuff has never been pry thing… Maybe a machine would help! Well up gotta go work on that, see ya!]

Remember: headmates almost never form exactly as depicted here. You can also alter anything on here to better fit your system and needs!

|| Plant packaged and sent ||

Plant grown by: Tree + Charlie // Fred/fern + Citrus Boy

Response by: Tree

Translation by: Tree + s a d Farmer

[basilpawzz143]

Would you want me to update the picture to say "relate to" instead of kinlist for you? :3 /genq /nf

(And maybe remove Basil since he's an actual kin now if you want)

So you don't have to worry ab procrastinating.... GH no that sounds rude but as a chronic procrastinator I js mean like I wanna help get smth off ur plate ^^;

NO ITS OK TY FOR OFFERING THOOO

i wanna redo my entire intro post like as a whole so it wont even have the kinlist thing soon

[genderdotcom]

more thoughts on this. i've been reading too many drizzt books now the writing style has infected me and i need to be quarantined or put down or something. tw for haarlep's deal (implied) (deleted and reposted this bc im indecisive over it)

(DISCLAIMER. THIS WORK REFERS TO EYES AS “ORBS”. WEAR APPROPRIATE PROTECTIVE EQUIPMENT AT ALL TIMES)

Dirin explained everything. His defection, his disguise, the innkeeper that had taken him under her wing and the bards he learned from on the road. He spoke with as much urgency as he could muster- this was a hero he was talking to. And he knew well the reputation his kin had.

Heedless of his tale, the ranger took a potato from her pack. It had sprouted, taking root in the darkness of her bag of provisions- but she began to peel it nonetheless.

Dirin began to feel, infuriatingly, as if he was making excuses and defending himself to an implacable sa’varsh. 

“Why did you call me out on my disguise if you didn’t wish to speak with me? Lay it out plainly, please.” He bit out with no small amount of barely reined-in irritation.

“Fine, fine. Like I said, I had a gith friend. And I like to stick my nose places it’s not needed.” He nodded, understanding it to be the most important quality of those fabled heroes he so looked up to, but the tiefling barreled on.

“I mean, it passes the time, y’know? Not much else to do.” “You’ve done a lot already, if the tales I’ve heard are true.”

“They aren’t.” Her reply was prompt.

“None of them? So the curse of Moonrise Towers still stands? So Baldur’s Gate is overrun by gh- by mind flayers?” “I know what ghaik means, mate, you don’t have to translate yourself to me. And what does it matter if I did all those things? A half dozen others were right there doing more than me.”

Yes, he knew all about them. The noble Blade of Frontiers, the archmage Gale of Waterdeep, Karlach Demonsbane who laid down her life for the city; even fragmented tales of a woman that must have been a Githyanki. Well, the ranger’s claim that she had a gith friend would corroborate that. It would have been the perfect tale to tell to get him in the spotlight were it not for his treacherous, cowardly heart skipping beats at the thought of mentioning his kin.

“Is there something special about this town, for you to stop here?” There didn’t seem to be. In the few months Dirin had spent in the town- more of a village, really- the people had proven themselves to be nothing but ordinary, though perhaps with more of a tolerance for novelty than he’d expected.

“Absolutely nothing. Didn’t you hear me? I’m not doing anything.”

It had been six months since the Netherbrain fell, and Dirin had heard many tales of Riah, the tiefling fighter- now a ranger, it seemed- and her stalwart defense of the Sword Coast’s frontiers. Her small knife pressed through the potato, and she dropped the cubes into the simmering pot. Her hair fell into her face hampered only by her horns.

She looked tired.

The stew was finished before the sun had fully set. Despite Dirin’s insistence that he didn’t need anything from her, he had his own food, she ladled it into two wooden bowls and pressed one into his hands. The warmth, at least, brought some life into him as they both sat there, sipping at it in silence.

A violent shudder passed through Riah’s body. Though Dirin could see nothing afoot, she convulsed strongly enough that the bowl of stew in her hand slipped and spilled over the packed dirt. Recovering quickly, she shook off the droplets that had landed on her hand and simply stared at the stew slowly absorbing into the ground.

“What happened? Are you al-” Dirin brought up his hand, ready to cast a healing spell, though he knew well that his prowess was very limited; but she stopped him with a gesture.

“Fine. Just an old wound.” Her breath hissed through her teeth. There was something tightly wound about her posture in that moment, the horrible tension of prey unable to flee. “It doesn’t la- ah- last too long. Usually.” She leaned down to pick up her bowl, her scarred red knuckles bleached pink from tension. 

“You’re a hero. I’m sure any healer along the Coast would-” “No, they wouldn’t. Couldn’t.” Waiting for Dirin to finish his sentence was too much of an effort, it seemed. “‘S what I get for dealing with… well, I told you already. It’s fine.”

But she made no effort to pour herself more stew, and spent the rest of dinner staring silent into the fire. Her nails bit bloody crescents into her palms.

Following some unspoken agreement, they took watch in shifts. The strangeness of the situation was almost soporific to Dirin, but ingrained discipline kept his eyes open from the middle of the night to the morning. 

He’d almost expected Riah to pack up and leave. Instead, she cleaned up the campfire and took her turn sleeping with no words exchanged. She was asleep in moments- but the twitches and shudders remained. Sweat beaded on her brow and pooled in the wrinkles of her twisted, pinched expression. If this was an illness or injury, it was like none he knew of.

Dirin woke with the dawn. Riah was still up, poking at the coals of the campfire with a long stick.

“It doesn’t usually last that long.” She said in lieu of ‘good morning’. “I’m fine now.” There was something in her other hand, a balled up piece of paper- a letter of some sort? 

She staggered to her feet, unfurling the crumpled sheet. Her piercing blue orbs examined it for one long moment, flitting between it and his face, there and back.

“Say, Dirin- your name was Dirin, right? How do you feel about going to a party?”

[ghclassic]

[melanieexox]

GH: Blooper time!

Kin Shriner: Finally, it's my time to shine!