THERE IS NO END .

#𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐗. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 . ❞ — promo .#revamped and ready to RUMBLEEEEE

❝ house whose rooms are pooled with blood. house with hands. house of guilt. house that other houses built. house of lies and pride and bone. house afraid to be alone. ❞

C.REEPYPASTA & C.HANNEL Z.ERO INSPIRED NO-END HOUSE OC. CARRD. follows back from @wickdcreatures.

the-ghost-bird

Based on a dream i had last night about a haunted house screaming at me to stay.

#𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐗. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 . ❞ — aes .#this is insane im in love with this

This role he’s chosen feels like a well worn glove, something familiar in the hunch in his shoulders, the chill in his hands. All his “roles” are easy, but this feels natural — his body shivers with mock withdrawal, his skin is pale and clammy — it’s nothing but a fresh coat of paint, underneath it all, August feels right as rain.

The House devours the one who told him where to find this place. A den for addicts, the owners of this bar must know of the dealings — but don’t care, or maybe they do, but they are powerless to stop it. Addicts always want an escape, and oh, does he have one. He picks the one who looks most like they are holding on by a thread, the one who looks most like they could use The House’s gifts. He sits next to @skullfck at the bar.

“ You selling? ”

#skullfck #𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐗. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 . ❞ — threads .

unpossession

The pull of, because there is a great absence within her currently. Maybe he can sense what she's on the precipice of. Willow cannot feel. She has been trying everything.

"I remember you too." Acknowledgement lacking warmth. So unlike herself. "I don't mind at all."

#unpossession #𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐗. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 . ❞ — threads .

If this were a normal meeting, if he were a normal man, he may have been offended, hurt even, by her callousness. But he isn’t a normal man, and she isn’t normal either — nor is the way she holds her emotions at arms length, whether she means to or not. It excites him, something he can dig his fingers into, something he can tear open with his fingernails. Like a pomegranate, a mess of bloody red.

“ You look tired, ” he says with a smile. His hands are tucked behind his back. They walk nowhere in particular. “ You’ve been through a great deal, haven’t you? ”

redid augusts carrd <3

#𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐗. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 . ❞ — out of character .#added more info that i didnt have before?? lol

Oh, Danny, Danny, Danny. If only you knew what really happened to your friend, if only you knew it was just his skin and bones before you, stripped of all of what made him what he was before/ Born anew, born hungry — blue-green eyes once clouded with drugs are now sharp, piercing. It’s a slow night, whoever was working the counter must be on break — leaving only him and @bludrite in the restaurant. Alone.

“ Good evening, Danny, ” his smile doesn’t sit right on his teeth, his posture is far too good, “ I was hoping you were here. May I order a burger? ”

#unpossession #𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐗. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 . ❞ — threads .

She’s changed since the last he’s seen her. He can feel the pull of sadness and trauma — and oh, @unpossession was already so sad.

“ I remember you, ” he comes right beside her, welcoming, smelling warm and inviting — chai and cookies, warm vanilla. Comfort, “ Mind some company? ”

goddteeth

i will never leave this house

#𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐗. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 . ❞ — aes .#THE MOST PERFECT AES POST FOR AUGUST LKJHGHJ

Danny grinds his teeth, bouncing slightly on the spot. The confusion on Ant's face doesn't soften the blow of any of this - forgotten is still forgotten and abandoned is still abandoned. Danny's been stranded in such a lonely place for so vey long, stung by the sudden loneliness and had the tenderness beaten out of him. There was nobody to look out for him after Ant. Keep him out of trouble. He's always needed someone like that, even since he was a baby.

"You don't-- You don't fuckin' re--remember me?" His voice softens, but his fists are still balled up. He steps back. Danny resolves not to hit him until he's heard all the facts. He feels tears burn the back of her throat. "...Sure. I think I saw a diner a few blocks back."

His head is swimming; for once, that self-satisfied smile of his has faded, shifted into something else. A confused scowl, or a look of concern. It’s almost painful, being confronted by the idea of a memory — The House blocks it, The House doesn’t want him to remember. To remember is dangerous. To remember is painful. There is Nirvana in the act of forgetting.

He doesn’t say much else as he turns on his heels and walks, expecting Danny to follow behind him. They are wordless as they weave through the people on the busy city sidewalk, the silence only broken for a moment when August asks for a table for two within the small, greasy diner mentioned by Danny just a moment earlier. He looks out of place here, posture perfect, suit untouched while the rest of the patrons are either weary truckers or hungover college kids. Looks are cast in his direction, and for the first time, he feels every single one of them. And it makes his skin crawl.

More silence, as August picks at his perfectly manicured fingernails. Coffee is poured and delivered to their table, a menu gingerly laid at the edge. August’s stomach churns with… well, he doesn’t know. It’s an emotion he hasn’t had to reckon with in a while — even certain emotions The House has taken from him. He straightens, takes his coffee into his hands, and takes a sip. No cream, no sugar.

“ There is… a lot I have to say, and I’m not entirely sure how much of it you’re going to believe, but can I ask you to be patient with me? ”

#𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐗. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 . ❞ — aes .

feverdreamwonderland

Danny balls his hands into fists, his pulse is so heavy in his temples that his vision blurs with every beat of his heart, shaking and rumbling like found footage. They were brothers, weren't they? how could he leave, just like that? Even as he comes up with his excuse, Danny isn't convinced that this isn't just an act to get rid of him.

"Danny. It's fuckin'-- How the fuck could you not know me? I--" He gets choked up, brings a too-cold hand to his face to catch the tears about to spring from his eyes, and begins to pace. "You taught me everything I know how'ta be-- and-- you fuckin' left, you piece of shit. You-- You left--"

He gives him a weak shove.

With furrowed brow, August easily plants his feet, hardly swayed by the shove given to him by the other. By Danny. The name feels like shards of glass in his skull, nails and screws and glass being tossed around at the sound of the name.

“ D - Danny, please, ” August winces, well kept and ringed hands grabbing the boy's shoulders, “ I didn’t… I didn’t mean to forget about you, I promise. You called me Ant, right? That’s not… That’s not the name I know. That’s not what I have been called since… Well I don’t know. I’m August, that’s how — ”

He lets go of the boy, instead pinching the bridge of his nose, or running his hands through his hair. This isn’t some hollow performance like the ones he is so used to giving. This is real, he feels all of the anxiety and the confusion that he is portraying, and that in and of itself is terrifying. He’s scared of this boy. He threatens everything.

“ Maybe we should go somewhere so I can explain myself. If what you’re saying is true, I owe you that much. ”

He spends the whole walk with his face screwed into a scowl. This guy walks different, there's no slight hunch to his gait or swagger in his step. He walks like somebody unburdened, who isn't aching somewhere or somehow and Danny wonders what that must be like, since he can't fuckin' remember a day where his he woke up and his head wasn't banging or his muscles didn't ache.

He almost convinces himself off of that alone that this stranger isn't the man he'd once called brother... But as he's about to turn away, Ant turns toward him and any hopeful delusion about him being a stranger fades, turns to ash in his mouth.

At first, Danny is relieved. Then angry. Wounded. Can I help you? Like they're strangers, like they're fucking nothing at all. Guess he wasn't much of anything to Ant anyway, abandoned at the drop of a hat. For what? Fancy suits? For getting clean and leaving Danny in the streets alone without a friend?

"You fuckin' serious, Ant? You're gonna pull the stranger shit?" He sounds on the verge of tears.

#“you were a pitiful man anthony erba” in case you cant read it LKJHG #bludrite #𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐗. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 . ❞ — threads .

August’s head lulls to the side, his twisting into one of confusion. Soft blond curls fall in front of too — clear green eyes, ones that study the person’s face in front of him. Ant… He says this with such heartbroken familiarity. Something tugs on his memory but nothing concrete comes of it. There is an ache in his chest that he can’t explain.

Ant… August mulls this over in his head — it echoes around like a ghost in the halls of some forgotten house, where a life was once lived and memories formed but now there is only dust and old cobwebs hung in the corners.

🇾🇴🇺 🇰🇳🇴🇼 🇹🇭🇪 🇷🇺🇱🇪🇸, 🇦🇺🇬🇺🇸🇹. 🇾🇴🇺 🇦🇬🇷🇪🇪🇩 🇹🇴 🇹🇭🇪🇲. I know. 🇾🇴🇺 🇨🇦🇳 🇳🇪🇻🇪🇷 🇧🇪 🇭🇮🇲 🇦🇬🇦🇮🇳, 🇦🇺🇬🇺🇸🇹. 🇾🇴🇺 🇦🇷🇪 🇧🇴🇷🇳 🇳🇪🇼. I know. I just want to know him. Who he was. 🇭🇪 🇼🇦🇸 🇦 🇵🇮🇹🇮🇫🇺🇱 🇲🇦🇳.

Y̷͚̤͈͍͐̽͘͘͝O̷̖̯͐̕Ű̸̜͎̬͖̉ͅ ̴̣̻̽̐̌̀Ẇ̴̲̳̑͋̈͒Ě̴̛͙̯̹͛̈́͝R̸̡̫̘̦͉͙͔̒̄̂̋Ë̷̖͕̝̰͍͎̣̅̓͛̉̏̊͜ ̸̖͒͗̔͜͝͝Ã̷͎͌̊̇̒̓̚ ̷͚͇̠̱̋̋͗̎̎͗͂P̴̟̂I̵̪̘̅̂̑́͝T̸̝͇̺̜͚͔͕́͛ͅI̵̦͑̽͌͆ͅF̸̗͂̅͑͒̓͆̕Ư̸̢̭͚̓̈͑̆͒͠͠L̸̨̛̹̟͓̏͂̇̇͌ ̸̪͈̯͓̉M̷͖͇̣͖̩̦̦̙̓̌̂̆Å̵̢̝̯̤͕ͅN̶̛͖̩̞̻̱̺͛́͌͆̄,̴̨̢̢͖̦̀͂͐̀̑̽͆ ̴͈̞̖̪͒̃́̕͝Ȁ̸̯̮̜͇͉̻͐N̵̪̺̰̙̆͆͜T̴̺͊H̶̞̼͚̬͔͗͆̇͂͌͌̋O̵̧͖͖̯̲͕͚͈̒N̶̛̛͎̲͚̦̹̆̅͘ͅY̵͕͓̿̏̂ ̵̹̘͚̹̾͆͊̓̿̎̀Ȩ̶̗̜̰̥͙̼̯̍R̸̬̝̜̻̭̤̬̔͒̽̾̀̃̆͝B̸̻̻͔̞͊͊͜A̸̺̦̾̓́͝.̶̼̭̍͑̆͒͜ͅ

August’s head hurts, filled with a low, dull hum. The House is displeased with him, it beacons him back. He chooses to ignore it for now.

“ I-I’m sorry, I… ” he reaches a hand up to his head, pressing the heel of his palm into his temple, “ Can you… I’m awfully confused — Who are you? ” And then — and idea, “ I don’t remember much before the last couple years. Do we know each other? ”

It's a new town but all the street corners feel the same; it's cold and lonely and he's looking out for someone with a hookup. He doesn't know many people here - that was kind of the point when he was sent here - but it's not hard to spot a dealer when you spent most of your life around them.

Danny waits with his hands in his pockets, shivering with his eyes scouring the streets for a familiar face. He's beginning to become a regular here, watery eyed and sniffing into the back of his hand, feverish and sneezing like it's fucking December already... And maybe it is. The face passing by makes his blood run colder than that one Christmas he spent in New York with his aunt, another attempt to get clean that didn't pan out.

Ant. It's Ant. It can't be, but it is. He hasn't aged a day since the last time Danny saw him. He feels sick. Danny pulls his hood over his head and follows the man as he walks down the street, his eyes dark, his hands trembling harder and harder the more convinced he is.

@noended

Eyes cast in his direction are not too uncommon, if anything they are anticipated. Encouraged. The bright colors and loud patterns aren’t worn for himself, neither are the wild and quirky accessories. It’s the bioluminescent light of an angler fish, or the sweet fruity smell of a venus flytrap — all designed to draw people in, to dazzle and amaze prey to look past the giant red flags — the hungry belly of the house. It’s sharp, monstrous teeth.

He isn’t followed like this as often, though. Stared at, yes, but not followed. He feels the eyes on the back of his neck, causing his hair to rise. Hears the soft tapping of the other’s shoes against the pavement. August walks for a while with the sensation of being followed nagging him to turn back and look — but he never does, not once. Not until there is no one else around. Not until the only things keeping the two of them company are the stray cats and city rats scouring the dumpsters for their next half rotten score. August turns swiftly to face his stalker, a pleasant smile on his face void of any real emotion. A mask of pleasantness, practiced kindness.

“ You’re following me. ” August states, fingers steepled in front of him... and then a pause. This man... he looks familiar. Has August had dealings with him before? Has he taken someone he knew to Nirvana? “ Can I help you? ”