chqinsawzx

[chqinsawzx]

Small peak of Asteria’s lips hehe, im already excited to finish and post it, 🎀

[chqinsawzx]

Julius: Killian, say 'barbeque.'

Killian: bawbehkew.

Julius: no, 'barbeque.'

Killian: das whatta I said, bawbehkew.

Julius: head in my hands.

Killian has a heavy Boston accent

[chqinsawzx]

Ever wondered what happened when Asteria died and was found by julius? Lets explore this side of the story.

Suffocating cold.

The fog was thick. Cold. Suffocating.

Asteria slowly opened her eyes. Her throat burned, as if her father’s hands were still wrapped tightly around it. She gasped, trying to breathe—even though she wasn’t supposed to anymore.

The ground beneath her was damp, covered in dead leaves and strange gray dust. The forest around her wasn’t like any she remembered. The trees seemed alive, leaning toward her, whispering things she couldn’t yet understand.

Then she saw him.

A tall figure, thin, elegant—dressed in something from another time.

A long black coat, lined with deep crimson thread, trailed behind him. Half of his face was hidden by a cracked porcelain mask, and his gloved hands were stained with dried blood and strands of silk.

He stood at her feet, slightly hunched, like a tailor admiring a broken doll.

— “Wake up, my little star… The world may have forgotten you, but I have not.”

His voice was soft, almost melodic—but it chilled her to the bone.

Asteria tried to sit up, confused, trembling. Julius knelt beside her and reached out a gloved hand.

— “They broke you. I will stitch you back together.”

From inside his coat, he pulled out a silver needle—thin, bent—and a thread the color of dried blood. He gently placed the needle’s tip on her skin, right where the strange mark had appeared while she was still in the hospital.

— “You won’t be human anymore, Asteria. You’ll be… perfect.”

…

Asteria awakens in dull, gnawing pain, the cold forest air slapping her face as a brutal reminder of reality. Her eyes, initially blurred, slowly clear, revealing a dark, almost black sky dotted with heavy clouds. The smell of damp earth and decaying vegetation fills her senses, sending a chill racing down her spine. She struggles to rise, her arms trembling, but a sharp ache in her chest reminds her of how she died. The last thing she saw before the darkness… her father, his hands around her neck, choking the life out of her.

She tries to breathe, but her lungs feel still filled with that same suffocation. The ground beneath her is cold, and as her vision stabilizes, she realizes she’s deep in a dense forest, clothed in black, her limbs scarred from both old and new wounds. Scars etched into her skin like a sentence.

And then she sees him.

A man stands before her, calm, as though he’s been waiting. He wears a dark, elegant coat, perfect leather gloves, and a mask of unnatural pallor that conceals his face. His eyes, hidden behind the mask, glimmer with an eerie light, an otherworldly gleam. He watches Asteria without a word, his feet perfectly positioned in front of her, like a master before his pupil.

It’s Julius, the Dressmaker. He seems… to be waiting for her.

His voice is soft, yet carries an unspoken threat: “You finally rise, Asteria. I’ve been waiting for you to realize what you’ve become.”

She stares at him, bewildered, but deep within her, something stirs. A quiet rage. She is no longer the fragile girl she was in that dark house, under her father’s fists and her mother’s claws. She is a shadow, an entity that has not yet fully comprehended the extent of her own suffering, nor her power.

Julius lowers his head slightly, his piercing gaze as though searching her soul. “You see, Asteria… suffering has changed you. But this isn’t the end. This is where everything begins. You are now something more, my dear. We have a work to finish, and you must now learn to understand death in a new way. Just as I did.”

Asteria slowly rises, a mixture of confusion and rage in her eyes. The memories of her death… of how she was robbed of life by the one who was supposed to protect her… everything collapses in a whirlpool.

“I will show you what it truly means to live after death, Asteria,” Julius continues. “Where suffering becomes a form of art, a source of immortality.”

He extends his hand toward her, almost as if guiding her into a new role. A new existence.

Asteria, still confused but determined, slowly gets to her feet, her mind filling with visions of the future — faces, souls, suffering… but also the possibility of endless vengeance.

The bond of trust between Asteria and Julius develops gradually, born from shared pain and traumatic experiences. At first, Asteria views Julius as a strange guide in a world she struggles to understand. He embodies what she could become, a mysterious figure who seems to have found a way to transform suffering into power. As she explores this new aspect of existence, Julius teaches her how to manipulate pain, to see it not as an end, but as a passage, a form of art.

Julius becomes a sort of mentor to Asteria, someone who does not judge her, but recognizes the depth of her trauma. He asks nothing more than for her to embrace what she has become, to understand that suffering is not a burden, but a source of renewal. His way of speaking, calm and reassuring, encourages her to let go of her emotional chains and accept her new role.

On Asteria’s side, she begins to see Julius not only as a master but also as an ally—someone who understands the loneliness and rage she carries. He is the one who showed her the path to her true nature, the one who saved her from a final death and turned her into something more powerful.

Credits to: @sanityshorror 🤍

[chqinsawzx]

Hi guys! Its chain🤍 ive posted two votes , ive been working on Asteria’s official look, but ive been struggling alot with her hair, the color etc.. and it blocks me from drawing the rest of her character, so i asked you guys help! I doubt they will be alot of people who will vote or even see this but i thought trying wouldn’t hurt. Make sure to vote !! So it could help me 🤍

Thank you!!

[chqinsawzx]

Asteria The Crimson

The house was always cold. Not the kind of cold that came from winter winds seeping through cracks in the walls, but a deeper, suffocating cold—the kind that settled in your bones and refused to leave.

Asteria learned to live with it. She learned to live with a father who reeked of whiskey, whose voice swung between slurred apologies and guttural rage. She learned to live with a mother who was a ghost in her own skin, a woman who spoke only in whispers and screams, never in anything between.

Her younger brother, Julian, was the only one untouched by the chaos. Five years younger, bright-eyed, and showered in the affection she never received. He had warm meals while she had scraps. He had kind words while she had venom. Asteria knew she should love him, but instead, all she felt was a quiet, gnawing jealousy. Nights were the worst. That was when the walls felt like they were closing in, when the air became thick with unspoken words and cigarette smoke. She found herself staring at the mirror across her room, her reflection staring back with empty green eyes. But one night, something changed.

She wasn’t alone in the reflection.

A shape tall, wrong, watching stood in the corner of the glass, barely visible in the dim light. Her breath caught in her throat. She turned quickly to look behind her, but the room was empty.

When she looked back at the mirror, the shape was closer.

Asteria scrambled away from the glass, her chest tightening. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

Then she heard something behind her window.

Her head snapped toward it, her pulse hammering. Outside, past the swaying trees, was a figure. Taller than any man, its limbs impossibly long, its face… missing.

Slenderman.

Asteria barely had time to process the sight before her vision swam. The room tilted, darkness crept at the edges of her sight, and then

Nothing.

She woke up in a hospital bed.

It was just a dream.

The night before, she remembered crashing into a tree with her car, after seeing and being troubled by a tall shadow figure that looked exactly like the one she dreamed about 5 minutes ago. 

She sighed. 

And then heard the nurses in the hallway of the hospital. 

A few minutes later, a male and a female, dressed in all white, with blue masks and blue gloves walked in. 

Asteria looked at them.

The doctors asked her questions—about stress, about sleep, about the scars on her wrists and thighs that they pretended to be concerned about. She answered as little as possible. None of it mattered. 

So they sent her home. 

The moment she stepped through the front door, the air changed.

The scent of stale liquor clung to the walls like mold. Cigarette smoke curled in the dim light, settling into the furniture, the floors, her skin. The whole house was rotting, not from time, but from the people inside it.

“Asteria.” Her mother’s voice slithered in from the kitchen, sharp and hollow. “You’re back.”

No How are you? No We were worried.

Just that flat, indifferent acknowledgment—like she was some stray cat that had wandered home.

Her father was in his usual spot: the armchair near the broken radio, a half-empty bottle hanging from his fingers. He didn’t look at her.

Julian sat cross-legged on the floor, playing with one of his expensive wooden toys. He barely spared her a glance before returning to his little world of make-believe, where their parents were good and everything was safe.

Asteria dropped her hospital bag by the door, feeling the weight of the house press down on her chest.

Then came the yelling.

It started as it always did.

Her mother’s voice, cold and bitter: “You’re useless. Can’t even keep yourself from passing out in the middle of the road.”

Her father’s growl, thick with alcohol: “Wasting our damn money on doctors, like they’re gonna fix what’s wrong with her.”

Asteria didn’t respond. She never did. She just stood there, letting the words drill into her skull.

Julian sat quietly, untouched, as if he were invisible to them.

And Asteria hated him for it.

She hated the way their mother would kneel beside him, her voice soft, her hands brushing through his hair.

She hated the way their father, even in his drunken haze, would ruffle Julian’s head and slur, You’re gonna be strong, kid. Not like your sister.

She hated that she was always the problem.

Something inside her twisted.

Her gaze drifted to the mirror in the hallway. The glass was dark. Not because of dust or age, but because something something else was watching.

Asteria’s lips parted slightly, her pulse quickening.

She swore she saw something shift inside the reflection.

Not her. Not her father. Not her mother.

Something else.

Something waiting.

She blinked, and it was gone.

But the cold feeling in her chest remained.

She ended up going in her room, smacking the door, and laying on her bed. She looked at her ceiling, her eyes closed and then… nothing. 

After leaving the hospital that day, Asteria lost herself in a whirlwind of debauchery. The echoes of her traumatic past constantly haunted her, but instead of facing them, she chose to drown them out. Alcohol, drugs, and clubs became her refuges—temporary escapes that numbed the pain but pulled her deeper into an endless abyss. The nights stretched on in a frantic dance, where blurry faces and loud laughter barely masked the emptiness growing inside her. She felt nothing anymore, except the urge to escape. Her body got lost in the party, but her soul died a little more each day. The memories of her broken childhood turned into nightmares, but she preferred to vanish into oblivion rather than confront reality. As the months passed, the line between the violence of her past and her self-destructive behavior became blurred, until she no longer knew who she really was.

School was no better than home.

The classroom was too bright, the voices too loud, the air too thick. Asteria sat at her desk, staring at the clock, watching the second hand drag itself forward like it was struggling to move.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Her stomach twisted. The nausea had been there since morning, gnawing at her insides, making her fingers tremble against the desk. She squeezed her eyes shut. Breathed in. Breathed out.

It didn’t help.

The voices around her blurred into a single, droning hum. Her head throbbed. The walls of the classroom seemed… closer. Too close.

She stood abruptly. The chair scraped against the floor.

“Miss Voss?” The teacher’s voice barely registered. “Are you alright?” Asteria shook her head. “Bathroom.” It was all she could manage before she stumbled out of the room, her legs feeling like they weren’t entirely her own.

The hallway stretched ahead, empty and quiet. She pushed open the door to the bathroom, gripping the sink with trembling fingers.

Cold water. That would help.

She turned on the faucet, splashing water onto her face, trying to push down the nausea, the dizziness,

 a drop of red hit the porcelain.

Then another.

Asteria blinked. Her vision blurred. Her nose was bleeding, a slow, steady trickle dripping down to the sink.

The lights above flickered.

A chill ran down her spine.

She looked up.

The mirror reflected the stall doors behind her, the flickering lights, the pale, sickly girl with dark brown hair and green eyes staring back.

And the shadow standing behind her.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was tall. Twisted. A shape without a face, without eyes—just a void where a person should be.

Asteria spun around.

Nothing.

Her chest rose and fell in ragged gasps.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

She stumbled back into the hallway. The school felt… wrong.

The walls seemed taller. The lockers stretched endlessly. The lights buzzed, dimming, flickering.

And the hallway—it wouldn’t end.

Asteria walked faster. Then ran.

But the hallway only stretched further, as if she were trapped in a nightmare where the exit was always out of reach.

Her footsteps echoed.

And then—

Another set of footsteps.

Behind her.

She turned her head, pulse hammering.

The shadow was there.

Closer.

Her breath hitched.

Her legs moved before she could think, sprinting down the corridor, the walls narrowing, the air growing colder, her vision darkening at the edges.

She wasn’t going to make it.

She wasn’t—

The world tilted.

Her body collapsed onto the cold floor.

Darkness swallowed her whole.

Asteria’s eyes fluttered open.

She was in the nurse’s office, the sterile smell of antiseptic thick in the air. The dim light from the window cast long shadows on the walls, but none of it felt real.

Her head throbbed. Her limbs felt heavy, like they didn’t belong to her anymore.

“Miss Voss?”

The nurse’s voice was soft, almost gentle. Asteria turned her head slowly. The nurse was sitting beside her, concern etched on her face.

“You fainted,” the nurse said, her hands twitching nervously. “You’ve been out for almost an hour. Are you feeling alright?”

Asteria stared at her.

No, she wasn’t alright. She hadn’t been alright for a long time.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.

She tried to sit up, but the nurse gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m worried about you, Asteria,” the nurse pressed, her voice soft but insistent. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You can talk to me, if you—”

Asteria shoved the nurse’s hand away. “I’m fine,” she repeated, her tone colder.

Without another word, she stood, stumbling slightly, and made her way toward the door.

The nurse watched her, but Asteria didn’t look back. She didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to be anywhere but away from it all.

When she stepped into the hallway, it felt like the world was just as wrong as it had been before. The walls closed in on her, the buzzing lights seemed to flicker in time with her pulse, but she pushed it all aside.

The nausea had returned, swirling in her stomach. Her fingers trembled, but she forced herself to keep walking.

By the time she arrived home, it was already late afternoon. The house was eerily quiet.

Until she stepped through the door.

“Asteria!”

Her father’s voice rang through the hallway like a whip.

Her mother’s voice followed, sharp and cutting. “What the hell’s going on with you? The school called. Fainting again? You’re making us look bad.”

Asteria stood in the doorway, her pulse racing. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to face them. She just wanted to lock herself away.

“You’re worthless!” Her father’s voice cracked. “You think the world’s gonna give a shit about you? Look at you, always falling apart, always making excuses!”

“You’re a burden, Asteria,” her mother spat, her voice laced with venom. “Why can’t you be like Julian? Why can’t you just be normal?”

Asteria’s vision blurred. The room seemed to spin, the walls closing in once more. She could feel the weight of their words crashing down on her, suffocating her.

Julian was in the corner, playing with his toys, oblivious.

Asteria wanted to scream.

She wanted to tell them everything. That she wasn’t fine. That she wasn’t normal. That there was something inside her, something terrible and dark, that was eating her from the inside out.

But instead, she just turned and walked out of the room.

She couldn’t stay here. Not anymore.

Not with them.

The house felt like a tomb. The air was thick with tension, suffocating, choking.

Asteria stood in the hallway, her body trembling. The weight of everything—her parents’ hatred, the whispers in her head, the things she’d seen—was too much. She couldn’t breathe. The world was closing in.

“You think you can walk away from us?!” her father’s voice echoed from the living room.

Asteria’s eyes narrowed. She felt a rage, hot and burning, twist inside her chest. She couldn’t take it anymore. She wasn’t just going to be the victim.

She stormed into the living room. Her father was sitting in his chair, empty bottle in hand.

“Get up!” she screamed, her voice a mixture of pain and fury.

Her father looked up, his face slack, eyes filled with the haze of alcohol. “What do you want now?”

“You think I’m nothing?” Asteria spat, her fists clenched. “You think I’m worthless? You—”

Before she could finish, her father surged out of the chair. He was faster than she expected, grabbing her by the throat with both hands, his fingers like iron bands.

The world around Asteria dimmed. She struggled, gasping for air, her hands clawing at his grip, but it only tightened.

“You are nothing,” he hissed, his breath hot against her face.

Asteria’s vision blurred, the edges of the room fading to black. But just as her body started to give way, her father released her, letting her crumple to the floor.

Her vision cleared for just a moment before her head hit the floor with a sickening thud.

The last thing she heard was her father’s low mutter: “You’re better off gone.”

It was dark when her father and mother stood over her lifeless form.

Her body was cold, the color drained from her face, and the weight of the moment hung over them.

“She’s gone,” her mother whispered, her voice lacking emotion. “She got what she deserved.”

Her father didn’t respond. He moved to her body, grabbing her limp form and dragging it toward the back door.

The plan was simple: Hide the evidence. No one would know.

Julian stood frozen in the corner, his eyes wide with terror. Tears streamed down his face, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t scream. He was paralyzed by the horror of it all.

But their parents didn’t notice. They just dragged Asteria’s body through the house, hiding it where no one would find it.

Julian’s cries echoed in the empty house, but they were drowned by the sound of their footsteps and the sound of a door being slammed shut.

The night stretched on, and the world was quiet. Too quiet.

Asteria’s body lay cold in the dark, alone. But then…

Her fingers twitched.

Her chest rose and fell, slow and labored, as if she was waking from a dream she couldn’t remember.

Asteria’s eyes fluttered open.

She was no longer in the house. She wasn’t even in her own body.

She was somewhere else.

Asteria stood on unsteady legs, her heart pounding in her chest as her surroundings twisted around her. She was outside, in a forest, bathed in moonlight. The air smelled wrong—stale, like death itself.

And then she saw them.

A figure in the distance—tall, wearing a dark suit, its face hidden in the shadow of a tree. Slenderman.

By the edge of the clearing, two figures stood, laughing.

The other, a man with a thin, elegant frame, stood with a calm demeanor, his eyes focused on Asteria with a strange, assessing look. Julius the Dressmaker.

And beside him, a man who shouldn’t have been there at all. His eyes gleamed with madness, and there was an eerie, unnatural stillness in the air around him. His grin was wide, stretching across his face like a mask.

Asteria froze, her breath catching in her throat. The world around her was blurry. Nothing made sense. Her body felt wrong, like she wasn’t quite in control of it.

And then, as if all at once, she felt it—a pull, a darkness, something ancient and hungry.

The world began to blur again, and Asteria was no longer sure if she was still alive, still dreaming, or if she had become something else entirely.

[FLASH NEWS] 

Good evening. This is breaking news from a small, quiet neighborhood in the outskirts of the city. Authorities are investigating a tragic and disturbing event that has left many in shock and confusion.

Earlier today, police responded to an emergency call from the Voss household, where a young child, Julian Voss, was found alone and visibly traumatized. The boy, who is only ten years old, was discovered in the family home, shaking and unable to communicate clearly. His parents, Maria and Viktor Voss, were found missing, with no signs of struggle.

However, the most chilling discovery came when police began searching the house for any signs of foul play. Despite the obvious trauma on young Julian, Asteria Voss, the 24-year-old daughter, was nowhere to be found. Authorities confirmed that Asteria’s body was not recovered, leading to even more unsettling questions surrounding the case.

Neighbors report that Asteria had been distant in recent days, her behavior becoming increasingly erratic. Some described strange noises coming from the house late at night, while others said they had seen the young woman walking through the streets in a dazed, almost trance-like state.

Local police are treating the case as a potential homicide, though no official cause of death has been determined, as Asteria’s body remains missing. Investigators have not ruled out foul play, and they are currently looking into the possibility of a violent altercation within the family.

Authorities are also concerned about the psychological state of young Julian, who, according to sources, witnessed the traumatic events leading to his sister’s disappearance. Neighbors say that Julian has been heard crying and mumbling strange things, such as ‘She’s not gone’ and ‘She’s still here,’ though investigators have yet to confirm any details regarding his statements.

In a bizarre twist, the local police have received reports from other residents of strange occurrences in the area—unexplained shadows seen in the woods, disturbing figures standing in the corners of rooms, and whispers that seem to echo from the night.

At this time, there is no explanation for Asteria Voss’s disappearance, and no one knows where she could be—or if she is still alive. What is clear, however, is that this case is far from ordinary. And until answers emerge, the chilling mystery of the Voss family remains unsolved.”

Credits to: @sanityshorror for julius <3 and credits to slenderman's creator

[chqinsawzx]

Go follow my account on creepypasta fandom wiki !! I will post alot there🤍

[chqinsawzx]

Asteria The Crimson

Hello! Welcome to my first tweet about my oc. This is not alot, but i thought this could be fun to share. I present you asteria’s abilities.

WARNING: blood subjects & psychology

1- Blood Curse

Anyone who touches her blood becomes cursed. Over time, they begin to lose their sanity, hearing whispers and seeing horrific visions until they either succumb to madness or die under mysterious circumstances.

2- Immortality

she can survive fatal wounds and is constantly reborn through the blood she sheds.

3- Nightmarish Echo

She can create an echo of herself in a victim’s mind. This manifestation causes confusion, making them believe they’re seeing her everywhere. The echo can manipulate their thoughts and actions, eventually driving them to madness, where they can no longer differentiate reality from illusion.

4- Fear Inducement

She can trigger intense, paralyzing fear in others with just a thought. Victims find themselves overwhelmed by their worst fears, unable to move or think clearly. This fear often leads them to make reckless decisions, driving them right into Asteria’s grasp.

5- Emotional Manipulation

Asteria can control or amplify the emotions of others, making them feel overwhelming sorrow, rage, or fear. She uses this ability to manipulate her victims into acting in ways that make them more susceptible to her attacks or to break them down mentally before she strikes.

6- Hypnosis

Asteria can hypnotize her victims, taking control of their minds with her voice or gaze. Once under her control, her victims will follow her commands without question, even if it means walking into danger or ending their own lives. She can use this ability to create an army of mindless followers to do her bidding.

[chqinsawzx]

Hello! I am not new on this fandom but new to this app! Call me Chain🤍 this is where everything will begin. I will post tomorrow my first post about my Oc. Though, i will wait until the proper art of my Oc is finished to post it. I will give you guys updates on where my Oc’s backstory will be publish. Have a good night 🤍