❝ 𝙸𝙵  𝙸𝙼  𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃  𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂,  𝙸  𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 

I can’t.

Grey’s anatomy - 19x06 - Thunderstruck 

❝𝑌𝘖𝑈  𝐴𝘙𝐸  𝐶𝘙𝑌𝘐𝑁𝘎!  𝑌𝘖𝑈  𝐴𝘙𝐸  𝐴𝘍𝑅𝘈𝐼𝘋  𝘖𝐹  𝑀𝘌!  𝐴𝘕𝐷  𝑌𝘌𝑇  𝐼  𝐴𝘔  𝘕𝑂𝘛  𝘙𝐸𝘈𝐿𝘓𝑌  𝑊𝘐𝐶𝘒𝐸𝘋.  𝐿𝘖𝑉𝘌  𝘔𝐸  𝐴𝘕𝐷  𝑌𝘖𝑈  𝑆𝘏𝐴𝘓𝐿  𝑆𝘌𝐸!❞

 (  dev  patel  .  cismale  .  he/him  )  .  ⸻ VIKRAM  SHAH  a thirty  five year  old  ,  has  survived  another  day  in red  creek where  they  have  lived  for most  of  their  life . THE  SHEPHERD   is   known   for   being loyal and off-putting and  is  often  associated  with digging  a  finger  under  a  tight  collar,  mornings  covered  in  dew  and  fog,  the  clenching  and  unclenching  a  fist,  a  cornered  animal  snarling  both  in  warning  and  in  yearning.  in   a   small   town   where   they   work   as the  funeral  director  at  red  creek  cemetery ,  word  travels  fast  .  it’s   hard   to   keep   a   secret   ,   and   it   looks   like   the   boogeyman  knows   that   [  REDACTED  ]. 

𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚂 | 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 | 𝙼𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚁 | 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝚂 | 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃

Ⅰ   .   .   .   𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂

full  name  : vikram  shah nicknames  : vik age  : 35 birthday  : november  15th gender  : cismale ( he  /  him  ) sexual  orientation  : demisexual occupation  : funeral  director  at  the  redcreek  cementary fc  : dev  patel 

Ⅱ   .   .   .   𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈

mother  :  uvrashi  shah father  :  jasprit  shah

Ⅲ   .   .   .   𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃

∗  back  in  the  day,  viktor  shah  was  a  name  that  was  more  whispered  than  celebrated  around  the  streets  of  red  creek.  hushed  rumors  of  a  troubled  child,  a  young  man  with  a  hot  temper  and  a  knack  for  getting  into  trouble. ∗  what  a  shame  it  was  too,  that  his  parents  were  the  sweetest  people!  jasprit  &  urvashi  shah  were  nothing  if  not  upstanding  citizens.  and  well,  vikram  resented  them  for  it.  his  parents  were  too  busy  cultivating  their  image  and  keeping  the  business  that  they  put  raising  vikram  quite  low  on  their  priority  list. ∗  affection  was  not  something  that  was  commonly  found  in  the  shah  household.  sometimes  it  felt  like  they  saw  vikram  more  like  their  personal  assistant  rather  than  their  child. ∗  as  a  young  man  who  lacked  the  space  and  the  ability  to  express  himself,  he  resorted  to  acting  out  instead.  smoking,  drinking,  trespassing,  vandalism,  all  the  petty  things  rambunctious  teenagers  like  to  do  to  raise  a  ruckus  around  town. ∗   which  was  interesting,  because  vik  didn't  carry  himself  with  the  same  type  of  rowdiness  or  misconduct  that  his  peers  did. ∗   he  was  shy,  soft-spoken,  got  decent  grades  --  all  the  makings  of  a  nice  unproblematic  kid.  there  was  definitely  something  else  though.  an  underlying  temper  that  could  spring  to  life  in  a  blink  of  an  eye.  one  wrong  comment  could  turn  a  meek  smile  into  a  vicious  snarl  just  like  that. ∗   it's  unclear  to  everyone  what  finally  got  vik  to  mellow  down.  maybe  something  his  parents  said  finally  got  through  to  him  or  maybe  he  grew  tired  of  being  known  as  the  towns  'freak' ∗   regardless,  vikram  slowly  began  to  phase  out  his  rebellious,  wannabe  criminal  phase  during  his  college  years.  he  graduated,  went  back  home,  and  eventually  took  his  father's  place  as  the  town's  funeral  director. ∗  vikram  is  still  known  around  town  as  a  generally  polite  man.  a  little  quiet,  tends  to  keep  to  himself,  but  is  more  than  willing  to  lend  a  helping  hand  around  the  community.  in  the  morning,  he  is  usually  spotted  walking  downtown  holding  bouquets  of  flowers  and  in  the  evenings  he  is  known  to  catch  a  film  at  the  movie  theatre  or  grab  a  drink  at  one  of  the  local  bars. ∗   his  profession  and  overall  awkward  demeanor  still  makes  him  a  little  of  a  freak  to  some  people  but  any  rumors  around  him  are  more  made-up  tales  stirred  by  the  more  judgmental  folk.  stories  of  him  being  a  necromancer  or  a  witch,  snide  comments  about  how  he  seems  more  comfortable  with  dead  bodies  than  live  ones.  anyone  close  to  vik  would  tell  you  that  he's  a  sensitive  soul  and  simply  prefers  a  wallflower  lifestyle. ∗   if  one  were  to  pay  close  attention,  they  would  notice  that  he  keeps  his  knuckles  bandaged  most  days,  that  he  rarely  invites  people  over  to  his  home,  the  shadow  that  falls  on  his  face  when  someone  brings  up  his  childhood,  and  sometimes,  a  pensive  look  -  like  he  has  something  to  confess

𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈   :  your  local  angsty  teen  grows  up  to  be  a  soft-spoken,  somewhat  nervous  adult.  followed  his  father's  footsteps  in  becoming  a  funeral  director.  living  proof  that  emo  is  not  a  trend,  it's  a  lifestyle.

Ⅳ   .   .   .   𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂  -  all  connections  are  open  to  any  gender  unless  specified  otherwise.

wc  pinterest  |  wc  tag

Ⅴ   .   .   .   𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈

＋perceptive＋sensitive＋loyal －awkward－intense－insecure mbti  : ISTP natal  chart  : ↑  libra, ⊙ scorpio, ☾ scorpio inspired  by  : the  phantom ( phantom  of  the  opera  ),  evan  kelmp  ( misfits  &  magic ),  carrie ( carrie )

The Addams Family (1991)

the silence between is heavy and the house seems to settle within it, wind whistling through the room as if to cut the tension. a shiver runs through them once more, the chill more physical than mental this time. kennedy is hyper-aware of their surroundings. of the dust particles floating in the air, the stray moonlight peeking into the room from poorly boarded-up windows, and kieran talbot. standing as the centerpiece.  illuminated by a warm light, lips parted slightly, a small twitch in his brow, dark eyes trained on them with a reflected caution. he almost looks like a painting. like something they would see in some museum, drawn by an unknown tragic artist, toeing the line between beautiful and unsettling. so kennedy does flinch when kieran moves closer, all instinct, eyes narrowing into daggers— a silent warning.

the mention of their book is unexpected and the wary glare softens into something kennedy can’t quite place, somewhere between amusement and surprise. they were sure that their parents did their best to spread the word about kennedy's achievement around town but they didn’t actually expect anyone care enough to pick up their book. they haven't spoken to anyone about it, not even santiago. so under kieran's mention of it, they suddenly find themselves thinking back on their time in italy.

a small church yet beautifully ornate with stained glass windows depicting idolized saints and dutiful angels. their eyes meeting his— the priest in their story. father caruso. the last murderer they were in a room with as far as they know .  the man who had the whole town wrapped around his finger. kennedy remembers looking around the cathedral, catching glimpses of the people in the pews looking up at him with teary reverence, clinging to his every word.

kieran’s voice pulls them back to the present, directing their attention to the battered bed nearby. sybil thorne’s bed. kennedy’s flashlight follows instinctively, skimming over the surface before snapping back to kieran, unwilling to lose sight of him. they feel disoriented, trapped between two worlds—the cathedral in their memory and the decaying thorne house.

kieran’s words settle in the room like the dust swirling in the faint light. more lamb than butcher. the phrase plays over in their mind, the weight of it heavier than they expect. "yeah?" they finally speak up, canting their head slightly, a slow-growing smile making its way to their features. "so what's a sweet little lamb like you doing out here then? hoping to find a purpose to bleed yourself into?" kennedy wasn’t fully convinced, they would be foolish to be, but they’ve never been the type to look to god or the universe for guidance. their gut was their bible and right now, it’s telling them that the kid who spent years buried in old articles and cold cases might be better used as an asset than dismissed as a suspect. they lower their flashlight some, and perhaps their guard as well. for now at least. "'cus i might just be on the same boat as you. " there's another pause then, only this time it doesn't feel so daunting. "do you think this place is actually haunted?" a sudden ask. they just can't help but shake the feeling that they were being watched. was it paranoia? god?

ꜜ ﹙ ⚰️  ﹚ ﹕ the questions hung heavy in the air for a few moments, met with kieran's silence as the thorne house creaked and groaned with every cold autumn breeze, almost as if the very walls were an audience reacting to this confrontation. he held his stance even against the blinding light of kennedy's flashlight, expression caught somewhere between surprise and something more akin to indignance against the returned accusation. it should be expected ﹕ he probably checked off multiple boxes in some litmus test for serial killers, but allegations felt like smoke sometimes ⸻ it could be suffocating if left unchallenged. he let the silence stretch out between them just for a few more beats, the weight of it pressing down on him like the dust that covered this old rotten place, before finally taking a small step forward. just to see if it would rattle them, just to see if they would flinch, just to see how much kennedy actually believed him to be red creek's newest murderer. then, a smile as he shook his head. “ i read your book, y'know ? great work you did there. but people look at it like it was an exposé on that priest, the oh so terrible things he did to maintain people's faith ... but the way i see it, it's more a revelation of the lies people tell themselves. ” kieran shrugged nonchalantly, casting his light on the bedside table, where sibyl thorne's weathered bible remained after all these years. and he wondered if she believed god would save her son from the misplaced wrath of this town. “ they need something to believe in, something bigger than their own insignificance. faith healing, prayers to some god, a big dose of hope and dopamine from the bible— because to live in a world without that, without the illusion of purpose, of salvation, would be too much. it's easier to believe in that whole weird apocalyptic scifi literature than accept we're just specks of dust drifting in a universe that doesn't really give a damn. ” and finally another step forward, hands raised in feigned surrender. he didn't always say much, sometimes not even enough, but kieran felt an affinity for kennedy ﹕ both of them only trying to make sense of what was happening in their town. “ guess what i'm tryin' to say is, i may not look like it, but i give too much of a damn to be an indifferent killer like this goddamn universe. i'm really just like all those people, ken. more a lamb than a butcher. ” a mess of belief, fighting too hard for meaning to ever be an empty murderer.

BOBBY BRIGGS TWIN PEAKS | 1.04

"good save, babe. you had me worried there." they tease. as if hana could do anything to make her look ominous. kennedy thinks she could commit a murder and still find a way to make it endearing. something they might have to consider a little deeper about after tonight's events. fingers easily interlocking with hers as kennedy leads them out from the dancefloor. not without giving hana another twirl of course. "is it just me or is this party... actually fun?" especially for how low their expectations were to begin with.

☾ ❝ eee ! ❞ she nearly squeals at kennedy, nodding enthusiastically at the suggestion. ❝ yes please. i want one of those things that look like a lab experiment. ❞ she pauses, then laughs at herself. ❝ like, one of the tube drinks. not the people. ❞

location : the register

time : early afternoon

for : ricardo( @inadeqcies)

in response to this

it was kennedy’s day off. they had plans to unwind. do some grocery shopping. take themselves out on a date to the movies like they had been meaning to. maybe even try not to think about the murder that had been weighing on their mind since halloween. the last thing on their todo list? a literal manhunt... yet there they were, storming into register, stomping past familiar cubicles and any coworkers that might still be lingering in the area. if anyone had said anything to her, kennedy couldn’t hear them over the blood roaring in her ears. “what—” the door slams behind them as they barge into his office. they knew ricardo was in there—could practically smell his cologne from the moment they walked into the building. intrusive. out of place. like the rest of his presence in redcreek. . “—in the ever-loving fuck—” a copy of the newspaper is slammed on top his desk, the sides wrinkled from where they had dug their nails into it, red ink scattered angrily across the print. almost like a bloodstain. “—were you thinking? quickly.”

CLOSER 2004, dir. Mike Nichols

My dad, he’s like, a financial planner. And I think he’s in trouble.

THE OC (2003-2007) 1.02 | The Model House

requests — anonymous asked — can you gif the ‘you’re not my type’ ‘we just had sex’ 'if you were i wouldn’t have, i’d have gotten to know you first’ conversation separately?