https://t.co/MIangTXQNF not inherently a dexter acc (never watched it) but shipped with kirby's harrison so give them all to me...
in the same vain , SCREAM BASED ACCS COME TO MEEEE.
speaking of ... he swallows back , holding out from retching. shock and adrenaline and blood loss really took a toll on the body. he's shaking , unable to even push the other away despite trying to. " get off me ! "
as his hands are grabbed , the taller boy stares —— wide eyed and unable to comprehend. " w—what ? i ... " he thinks it's a joke. some sick and twisted joke. he almost laughs , though it's more of a choked chortle.
harrison’s quick to grab julien’s palms, inhaling deeply as he tries to ground the other, able to see the signs of an impending panic attack. “jules —— let me, let me just explain.” harrison says, head craning around to see outside of the alleyway before »
" what're you saying ? " his voice lowers , eyes dancing down to his wound. expensive shirt stained with copper. " y—you killed somebody ... chopped them — nine pieces ? " his syllables are frantic , like word vomit.
he can't breathe , swallowing back air as he tries to fight away a panic attack. something he'd often confide in harrison ... now the cause. " your dad ? i ... the bruises ... you here. "
" then ... then it's ... " a breath , head shaking as hands smack at his face. " i don't fuckin' know , harrison ! " forgetting all about bleeding out , bloody palms leave stains on his facade. " this ... this is fucked. "
“it’s not me!” harrison exclaims, green eyes glancing down at his bruised knuckles. 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯' 𝘳𝘺𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳. the evidence from his fight with the now late hotel guest displayed openly. “why the fuck would i do that?” harrison cries out, desperation »
he's smiling now. maniacal , almost smirking. " i don't know why the fuck you're doing it. or your dad or 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 the fuck is happening ... just ... stop. stay away from me. "
confused as ever now , but 1+1 = 2 ... " right ... and you're the * only person who knew i was here. and you have bruises on your hands and arm ... in the exact spot i hit that fucker half an hour ago. "
“𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵.” harrison barks, “wait a fuckin’ second.” he’s slowly putting the pieces together, “ghostface? i am not ghostface.” he confirms, “my da—” he pauses once again, frown reappearing on his features. “why the 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 would i stab you? do you »
" your dad ? what the fuck has he got to do with ANY of this ? with * ghostface — with us ! " he gestures to bleeding wound. " this was you ... not your fucked up dad or whatever. "
him ? who ? ... he stops , collapsing back into the wall with arms outstretched to keep distance from the shorter of the pair. " what're you ... what the FUCK. " he frowns , eyes shutting tight.
a strange look of confusion graces the morgan boy’s face, watching julien’s reaction carefully. “what the fuck, man?” he calls out, daring to take a step closer. “you think you fuckin’ know me? because of 𝘩𝘪𝘮? just because my dad did all that fucked up shit »
a loud 'FUCK' echoes through the streets before he turns back to harrison , furious , optics blazing. " you fucking rat. i trusted you , i l— " he bites back his words , stumbling back again. " you did this .. all of this. "
he's distraught , face twisted in anger and betrayal and guilt. all this time ... how pathetic he was. " you ... you're —— has it been you this entire time ? " tears well in his eyes , turning away before screaming.
his green eyes widen sharply, mind assuming the worst. look on his face drops, palms sweaty. “w—what do you think i am, jules?” he asks, voice shaky. the answer could be a lot of things. the son of the bay harbor butcher. ryan foster’s murderer and god only knew what else.
" of course it was ... fuck ! fuck i'm SO stupid. " hands raise and smack his temple , wild and furious , forgetting injury in the height of the moment.
he doesn't even have time to question what they * 𝑎𝑟𝑒. he's too busy stumbling back , shoulder bashing harsh into the brick wall. " it's you ... has it always been . . . " he tilts his head , face twisted in betrayal.
harrison’s hands shoot up in innocence. 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘺𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳.ᐣ harrison gulps, frown growing as he watches the other stumbling backward. hands reach out to help the taller boy but stop, shoving themselves »