i am one of them @asterferreria-blog - Tumblr Blog

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She needed a breath of fresh air. Her apartment felt like it wasn’t enough - the walls too close, the air too thin. She needed to get out. Aster looked around the college lounge, taking in the number of people simply hanging out in it. The sight, the small sense of familiarity, brought on a smile on Aster’s lips.

She sat down on one end of a couch before looking over at the other occupant. Aster’s lips quirked into a small smile. “I hope you don’t mind.”

#misguidedstarter #[this is kinda bad i'm sorry #but hey]

miaxfletcher:

Mia sat at the counter of Betsy’s Diner, completely ignoring her burger. Once upon a time, it had been one of her favorite meals, but right now, she couldn’t stomach the familiar tastes. She occasionally sipped her coke just to appear like she wasn’t completely uncomfortable being in there alone. She’d already gotten quite a few odd looks that she had ignored. Normally, Mia would come in for a meal with her family. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever eaten there without at least her sister with her. But, she supposed, there’s always a first time for everything. “You know,” she said absently to someone who had just sat at the bar, “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten out in public alone.” She played with her straw for a moment before continuing. “It’s kinda sad when you think about it.”

Aster looked over at the girl and nodded. “I think I know what you mean. No matter how delicious a meal is, it’s nothing compared to the company of a loved one as you talk over, I don’t know, ramen noodles.”

She allowed a small smile before holding out a hand. “I’m sorry. I haven’t exactly been out and about the town. I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Aster.”

#;;transmission #;;miaxfletcher

fuckingangela:

“You’re wearing that? In public? People think I’m not charitable, but talking to you is like fucking community service.”

“What’s wrong with this? It’s actually comfortable.”

#;;transmission #;;fuckingangela

bunchofrpmemes

Character Flaws

asterferreria-blog

Bold the ones that apply to your character:

#;;aster

❁☎

❁☎A happy memory/A memory of their family or parents

A seven year old Aster Ferreria bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet, occasionally standing on her tiptoes in an effort to peek over the counter. Her father was talking with the kind-looking woman while writing something down on what seemed like an enormous stack of papers for the young girl. Light green eyes moved to large white double doors where her mother had disappeared into for more than half an hour now.

She didn’t know what was taking so long. She wanted to meet her now.

“Papa,” she began, inching closer to her father. “How much longer?”

No sooner than the words left her mouth did the double doors creak open. Aster’s attention immediately went to the door, eyes wide with a bright smile as she watched the small brown-haired girl. A pout seemed permanently etched on the brunette’s face as she reluctantly allowed herself to be taken to the counter.

Aster, however, did not allow the girl - no, her younger sister - to bring down her mood. She bounded happily towards the young girl and engulfed her in a hug. The younger girl struggled against her hold, but Aster simply smiled happily and held on tighter. It didn’t take long until Aster felt small hands on her back.

She finally released the girl, the bright smile still painted on her lips. “Hello! I’m Aster. I’m going to be your big sister from now on!”

The younger girl opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the woman at the counter piped up. “You better not say anything horrible, Rosie. These are nice people, and they’re doing good for you. Don’t be the ungrateful brat that you are.” The woman sneered, and Aster barely saw her father reel back.

For the seven year old, the woman’s beautiful image from before transformed. She imagined the woman with horrible horns and a forked tongue.

Aster grabbed her sister’s hand and stood in front of her. “Don’t talk to her like that, you big meanie!”

“Yes, Mrs. Holland, I would appreciate if you didn’t speak like that to my daughter,” her father spoke up in a tone that Aster only ever heard when he spoke to their neighbor about their dog that liked to poop in front of their house.

Aster felt her hand being squeezed and she turned her attention away from her parents who had began to tersely sign the paperwork necessary. “What is it, Rosie?”

The girl visibly flinched, and Aster felt panic rise up her chest. “Please don’t call me that. The kids in the shelter make fun of me because of that name.”

She nodded, as seriously as a seven year old could. “What do you want me to call you then?”

This seemed to give the younger girl pause before she ducked her head and avoided Aster’s intent gaze. “I... I read Sleeping Beauty yesterday. The princess was called Briar Rose.”

Aster beamed as she took the girl into her arms again. “Okay! We’ll call you that. Briar! You’re Briar, my little sister!”

A beat and tiny hands clutching at the fabric on Aster’s back before... “Thank you, big sis.”

#;;asks #;;aster #;;briar

#mginspoboard #;;aster

sebastianashworth-blog

Sebastian&

asterferreria-blog

sebastianashworth:

His body language could be read as an obvious “fuck off”. His morning coffee in one hand and an unmarked, nearly tattered book in the other. His gaze bore into the person sitting in front of him, a sadistic amusement residing in his eyes. But his voice was charming and inviting, rather soft. “Yes, may I help you?”

Aster blinked as she heard the voice. She ducked her head to hide the pink tint on her cheek as she realized she’d been caught staring. “Ah, it’s nothing, really.” She paused, eyeing the tattered book once again. It kept nagging at her. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to discover its contents in hopes that it held something substantial that could aid her.

“I was just curious. Would you mind sharing the name of that book?”

#;;transmission #;;sebastianashworth

gail-interrupted

+Gail

asterferreria-blog

gail-interrupted:

❝Hm? Did you want somethin’?❞

“Well I found this puppy outside of my apartment building and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it now. Do you think someone lost it?”

#;;transmission #;;gailinterrupted

kirbymartell:

“It’s simple, really. I’m planning on creating an indoor garden in my apartment, but the pots I bought are rather bland. I was hoping you could help add a touch of artistic flair to them?”

#;;transmission #;;kirbymartell

☠

☠ A dreadful or painful memory

Aster woke with a start. Her eyes snapped open and blinked back against blinding white light. A scent of pristine cleanliness filled her senses and she fought back the urge to empty her stomach. There were voices muted by the ringing in her ears and shadows dancing in her peripheral. A warm hand found its way on her shoulder, and Aster cringed away.

“Aster, please. It’s us.”

The calming voice of her mother rips through the cloud that had overcome her mind and she blinked towards her direction. She could see her mother somewhat clearer now. The once well put together woman looked horrible, with bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. Aster’s hand moved of its own accord towards the woman that had nurtured her her entire life, but IV lines hindered her movements.

She looked around. White ceiling. White walls. White bedsheets. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought she was dead and this was heaven.

“Why-” Her throat was dry as a desert, and her parents seemed to have sensed this. A quick drink of water later, and the questioned flowed through her lips again. “Why am I in the hospital?”

Her parents shared a look. The look. It felt like someone had dumped ice on her spine.

“Where’s Briar?”

There was no answer. Her mother’s eyes watered, and her father took a step towards her. Aster moved away.

“Where’s my sister?”

“Aster-”

“No.” The word was whispered, repeated like a prayer, as memories began to play in the forefront of her mind. The smell of vodka think in Reagan’s breath. Briar huffing in the passenger seat and taunting her by unbuckling her seatbelt. Two bright lights approaching at breakneck speed as Reagan ran a red light. Spinning. Crashing. Blood.

Aster could still taste the coppery liquid. “No. You’re lying. She’s not… She’s fine.” She heard a drip, and she was certain it wasn’t from her IV fluid.

Her mother’s face crumpled as Aster continued to shake her head. Before her father was able to gather her in his arms, Aster was ripping off the catheters on her arms - the pain couldn’t compare - and she ran. She ran out of her hospital room into the pristine hallways screaming her sister’s name until her legs couldn’t hold her up and her throat was hoarse.

#;;asks #;;aster #;;briar #[idek #this was so long]

❀ Aster Ferreria - Moodboard [1/?]

“I love people. I love having fun with people.”

#misguidedaboutme #mgmoodboard #;;aster

horror-memes

Headcanon Memories.

gail-interrupted

horror-memes:

SEND A SYMBOL FOR A HEADCANON MEMORY! ✘ - A bad or illegal memory. ❁ - A happy memory. ☁ - A childhood memory. ☠ - A dreadful or painful memory. ❤ - A romance or relationship memory. ♒ - A disturbing memory. ☹ - A sad or remorseful memory. ☺ - A unforgettable memory. ☎ - A memory of their family or parents. ✎ - A school or educational memory. ♨ - A confused or vague memory. ★ - An embarrassing memory.

#;;meme

misguidedghostsrp

asterferreria-blog

misguidedghostsrp:

Aster Ferreria ‖ 20 ‖ Living ‖ FC: Alycia Debnam-Carey ‖ TAKEN OC

________________ BIOGRAPHY ________________

PAST:

The first thing Aster Ferreria did at the delivery room was to smile sweetly at the nurse that carried her from the exhausted body of her mother.

The city of sin wasn’t exactly the friendliest place for a young girl with a kind smile and eyes full of stars. Despite all the chaos that surrounded her, Aster strived to be the best that she could be. With a helping hand to anyone and a comforting shoulder, it wasn’t a surprise that she quickly became someone people went to for advice and aid during their darkest hours. Aster was everyone’s big sister, and she loved fulfilling the role as best as she could.

She had so much potential. Her parents had sought the best for her from the very moment she first opened her eyes. Being a quick learner, it didn’t take Aster much to fulfill her parents’ wishes. She kept up good academic grades while maintaining a healthy amount of extracurricular activities that she balanced with her social life. It was work, but it was work that she loved. To be surrounded by everything she saw as beautiful – from the numbers that littered the blackboards, to the vibrant colors of the flora in her garden, and even the loud bustle of a party – was something that Aster wanted to have all her life.

Her younger sister, Briar, never shared her views. Aster never understood how the younger girl could be so pessimistic about life and everything that it had to give. She didn’t understand why Briar continued to rebel and cause anarchy wherever she went. She didn’t know why Briar felt the need to drown herself in brightly colored pills and sexual conquests that treated like trash.

So she decided to find out. The party scene wasn’t new to Aster, but one that involved illegal drugs at every corner left her feeling so out of her depth. Still, she pursued her sister and sought to keep an eye out for Briar even if it was from a distance.

That party was where she met Reagan. Reagan was another one of Briar’s friends, and every little bit about her screamed trouble. She was Aster’s opposite in every way, and like magnets, she couldn’t help the undeniable attraction that lingered there. Aster’s instincts screamed for her to turn her back on the girl and never look back, but she was transfixed.

Four months later, she wished she’d followed her instincts.

Briar’s red Benz, a turning of age gift from their parents, wrapped around a tree featured in the front page of the local paper. Reagan had been high as a kite and insisted on driving. Aster allowed her, with Briar huffing at the back. Reagan and Briar had refused to acknowledge Aster’s advice of buckling up.

When Aster woke up, it was to the news that her sister had died and Reagan was missing. Her parents didn’t know if it was the grief or if the crash had damaged her brain somehow, but Aster began speaking about hearing voices. She began to seclude herself from the world, instead spending her time researching or listening to the voices that she hears. As time passed with Aster completely secluded from society, the notion that she had died alongside her sister rose to the forefront of her mind. She was the dead come back to life, much like what she’d read about a cursed town called Bentley. She never heard the voice of her sister in her mind, though, and she was determined to find Briar. No matter what cost.

PRESENT:

Aster packed her bags and left her life in Las Vegas to travel to Bentley, New York. She was sure that she’d find the answers there – that she’d find a way to bring back her sister there.

After the first few days of her arrival, Aster continued to keep to herself. She simply observed the people of the town, wondering which ones were truly alive and which ones had died before. She kept a small list in the apartment that she’d rented with names of the people she guessed to be the Returned, although she’d never approached any of them with this information.

Two months after she’d arrived, Aster found herself slowly opening up again. She enrolled herself in a few classes in the community college as well as beginning to interact with the townsfolk more.

She still keeps most of her past to herself, but bits of her old smile are slowly coming back.

#;;self #;;aster