#martin blackwood. ic / only the lonely know the way i feel tonight

[ahsterism]

hshe mag nus on my archiv es til i. til i uhhhh-

[ahsterism]

@deathsbecome asked:  You’re, like, holding on to me or whatever. That’s, like, haunting 101. ❜ (also for martin. shes fucking with him) // yellowjackets season two starters

HOLDING ONTO HER, she says. Martin frowns, a familiar stressed crease between brows that typically signifies it's time for a hurriedly brewed cup of tea that he will let go lukewarm between his palms. He supposes it might make sense. After all, Martin has held much of his life like a rock in his chest, a ball and chain, confining him to the comforts of isolation and its wallowing security. A kind smile, tea to pacify, yet it never quite stopped him from feeling it all ( only allowed him to pretend he could ). And, after all, these... things, they prey on your personal experiences, don't they?

But, christ, Martin barely knew her. It feels cruel to think, but that doesn't change the truth: the Blackwood last name is just about the only thing they have in common. Memories of his father are near-nonexistent, and though he had sort of spoken to Addison through long-winded familial connections, they were never close. He heard of her death ( violent and all too soon ) and of course felt the weight of its tragedy... but intense enough grief to cause a haunting? He just... doesn't buy it.

"... Am I?" He still questions, ever full of self-doubt. "Well, I- I really don't— it's just that..." No, there's no way he's voicing his thought process here! "I don't think that's quite the case. The others have told me... they've seen you, too. It's the work of one of those... things, it has to be."