this was Dexterland & i am king. @dexterlxnd-blog - Tumblr Blog

lightanddark

dexterlxnd-blog

David: “How’d I do? Nate: “Are you kidding? You kicked some serious ass, you big freak!”

#;self #;another life #;the darkest of queues

fuckyeahsfu

#;self #;another life #;the darkest of queues #all that sass

rowboatcop

#;self #;rita #;my light #;the darkest of queues

dexterscreencaps

#;the dark passenger #;the darkest of queues

my-darkpassengerr-blog

#;self #;lumen #;the darkest of queues

lookatthelights

Harry tried to mold me in the image of the monster he thought I was. He told me to flee human connection, so that became a way of life for me. But with Lumen, I’m someone different. In her eyes, I’m not a monster at all.

#;self #;lumen #;the darkest of queues

dexterdarkdefender

Dexter Merchandise: http://bit.ly/1pouJmP

#;the dark passenger #;modus operandi #;the darkest of queues

dexterscreencaps

#;the dark passenger #;the darkest of queues

dexterscreencaps

#;the dark passenger #;the darkest of queues

dexterscreencaps

#;self #;the darkest of queues

limbplay-deactivated20160705

retribution.

limbplay-deactivated20160705

Reaching around Dexter, Brian immersed himself in this part of Dexter’s ritual and drew a cleaver from the collection of cutlery, all gleaming under the dull beam of the sole lightbulb in the center of the room. He held it to the light and glared not at the sharp end, but at his own reflection in the foreboding blade. ❝I know,❞ he said matter-of-factly. ❝It’s methodical. It comforts you.❞ As if he’d plucked the words right from Dexter’s mind! They were brothers; vetting aside, they had a spiritual connection, or so Brian liked to believe.

Brian laid the cleaver down on the metal table. He pondered Dexter’s options, then bluntly replied, ❝The bone saw.❞ By the cadence of his voice, Dexter would likely surmise that this was the tool to which Brian always drifted. It was just as easy and placating as Dexter’s ritual. Brian did not have a ritual, but he was not disorganized, either. His kills were orderly, planned weeks in advance. Brian remained leaps and bounds ahead of all, even when he was dogged by no one. Perhaps, in a sense, that was his ritual; acute preparation.

So like him, he passed on to the next conversational topic that struck him, and the least apt for this environment. ❝How on earth is that baby of yours, Dexter? Harrison?❞ God, Brian loathed that name. It reeked with the stench of Harry Morgan. He couldn’t begin to comprehend why Dexter would name his son for the foster father who exploited and betrayed him. Some things couldn’t be changed, he feared. ❝I’m hoping that you’ll let me meet him soon… I’m his uncle. He’s the only other living trace of our DNA.❞ His birth certificate read Morgan, but Harrison was a Moser as much as Brian and Dexter were.

#freresang #t:retribution