A/N: So I'm sure many of you have seen/heard of the Demon!Glee thing in fandom that's been going on over on tumblr. This is the first three bits that I've written in contribution to the movement. I know it started as an SPN thing but I've never seen an episode so I'm combining things that I remember about Charmed as well as a healthy dose of influence from the Darkly Dreaming Dexter novels.

Enjoy! Reviews are love my darlings


Kurt doesn't remember when it happened. One morning when he was little he woke up and there was something else there with him in his mind, a chuckling darkness that liked to whisper things to him. Break this glass, Kurt. It'll feel good to see it broken it would tell him, compelling him to drop it. But Kurt was strong and didn't listen to it. His mommy told him to never listen to strangers, to always trust her and Daddy the most. Even though this stranger was inside of him, curled deep in his chest, he fought to listen to their words instead, to not do bad things. And he won. Usually. Once it took control of his arms and broke his mommy's favorite hand mirror on the sidewalk in the back yard because It told him to. She had been so angry and sent him to his room without snack. Kurt had been so upset with It that he screamed and cried and yelled until it shrank down and fell silent. It was gone for a very long time after that.

But when his mommy went to the hospital and didn't come home again, the darkness started talking to him again.

"Kurt. Listen, I can help you," It said as he stared longingly at her picture, trying to remember her this way instead of frail and dying in that hospital bed.

"Go away," he whispered fiercely. "Get out of me."

"I can't, you know that. I'm part of you, Kurt. I'll always be here for you."

"No, you're not! I'm strong, Mommy asked me to be strong for Daddy because she can't be here! I'm going to be a good strong little boy!" Kurt yelled, clutching the picture frame to his chest, showing the monster her face, her beautiful loving face that he would never see again.

"I know, Kurt, I know. I can help you be strong!"

"Bad people can't be strong!"

"I'm not bad, Kurt."

"Yes you are! You told me to do bad things!"

"No, no, I just wanted you to pay attention. Kurt, think about who you are."

"I'm Kurt Hummel, I live on Cherry lane in the blue house with the white shutters. I went to Disney on Ice with my mommy for the first time when I was four, we saw princesses. I am good at riding horses!"

"Kurt, you've never seen a horse before."

"Wh-Why did I say that?"

"Let me show you." The images were too bright, like he was sitting too close to the TV screen. So many people, so many places. They flashed by in a stream of color and sound, folding around him until he thought he would stop breathing.

"That, that boy. The one with the horse and the sword. That looked like me."

"That was you."

"He looked so strong. I-I need to be that strong."

"If you let me in again, let me teach you, we can be."

"No, you're bad. I don't want-"

"Power is inherently neutral, Kurt. You know that. A knife can be for chopping vegetables to stay healthy, it's not just a dangerous thing."

"Can-Can I really be that strong?"

"You already are, just open up to it, Kurt. Remember who you are."

Kurt Hummel stopped trying to hide from the darkness that day. He let it in, allowed it out to stretch and twist through his mind. It felt good, warm in a way he had never been, like something had always been missing. It stopped telling him, never told him to hit his classmates. It went with him, a burning hot presence in his chest, and kept him strong when the bullies told him he was a fairy, that he should use the girls bathroom during break time. And when the boy who stole his jump rope tripped and slammed his face into the concrete, breaking his nose and knocking out his tooth, Kurt knew that he was in control of It now.


Kurt has trouble sometimes remembering who he is. Sometimes he wakes up and thinks he is still on the run from Hunters who want to tie him to a stake and burn him. One morning he woke up and was sure he'd been dragged from his by those crazy revolutionists who kept bitching about wanting more bread. It takes a moment for the old memories to fade and then he is himself again. This self, anyway. It's through the memories that he began to understand what It is.

He had once been named Ezekiel, a companion to Michael, and one of the fiercest soldiers in the Army of God. But he showed mercy to a Supporter of the Dark on the battle field who had already been fatally wounded, had showed him compassion and spared his remaining life. He was ejected from Heaven and sent to Earth, condemned to suffer an eternity of persecution. He's been a religious outcast, an usurper, a sorcerer, a revolutionist, royalty in the time of Marie Antoinette. Each time he's been chased and hunted and jailed and beheaded.

Each death has made him stronger. Those fleeting minutes where his mortal soul is sent to Hell for what he could not control have given him access to power that no Angel had ever had before. He became something new. Something twisted. He killed himself last time, after learning what he was, the mortal part of him still too innocent to accept it and thrive, and earned almost an entire day in Hell. Such dark things, such dangerous, beautiful things he saw. And they taught him, saw him for the power that he could be and showed him what to do.

Kurt's mortal side was damaged by the time he explained it to himself this round. It's inherently easier to expose something dark to the Darkness and so two halves became a whole once more. He begins to recall the lessons from that day that stretched for eons. How to beguile those around him into bending to his will. He can't do it often, some people are remarkably observant for mere human beings. It's also a bit difficult to hide the fact that when he allows himself to show what he truly is, his eyes flood black and he would flicker back to his original resplendent form in one way or another. It was like in Fight Club when Tyler Durden spliced porn into childrens movies. The person would get a sickly feeling in their spine and remove themselves from the situation without giving him what he wanted.

He could do other things, too, like the time when he broke a boy's nose without moving a muscle. Once he set an ugly pair of shorts on fire just by hating them enough. The problem is that he still can't completely control it. If he feels it bubbling up inside of him he can direct it where he desires but he has never been able to call it forth. Kurt wishes he could, as he walks the halls of McKinley and finds himself shoved into lockers and doused in slushies. He wants to show them what they're dealing with, what he could do. But he's not strong enough yet. No matter what It said and what he knows to be true, something is still missing. Even after all this time something is still fucking missing and he doesn't know what to do.


Kurt feels it the moment he opens his car door: something is off about Dalton. It's not the hideously boring uniforms or the fact that it really does look a bit like Gay Hogwarts. Whatever it is excites the darker parts of him and sets them on edge, draws them in closer. He wanders the hallways, lost in his quest to find the music wing. He thinks he knows which direction to head when the bell rings and there is a shout of "WARBLERS, WARBLERS!" as classrooms empty of students. The feeling grows within him as he lets himself be pulled along with the stampede.

Confused as to why nobody seems to be going to class, Kurt calls out to a determined looking boy to ask for help. He introduces himself and holds out his hand. Kurt takes it and has the breath knocked out of him for a second before he can respond with his own name. His blood is singing at the touch, every part of him alive with it. Every part of him. It chuckles in a way it hasn't in a really long time. He pulls back before something happens to make It want to uncoil and stretch without Kurt's permission. Not here, not now.

But Blaine grabs his hand again, tight and firm, and tugs him off the staircase and down a hallway. He's never felt it before, the shift, but this time he knows the exact moment that his eyes turn dark. He can feel the power pooling inside of him, flooding down his arms to where his hand is clasped in Blaine's. It stings like a burn but he feels as cold as ice. Time seems to slow down around them, like it's trying to trap him in this moment. He can't breathe around it. He knows something is going to happen, going to snap but they finally, finally reach a doorway and Kurt pulls away to collect himself for a moment.

The room is packed with people in uniform attire and Kurt sticks out like a sore thumb in Marc Jacobs and knee high boots. He tells Blaine as such, hoping to get a laugh. Instead he gets his lapel smoothed down. Even though there is no skin touching, Kurt can feel the searing frozen heat on his chest and is shocked to silence as Blaine excuses himself. Kurt notices some of the other boys have started singing and are gathering around Blaine. At first he is confused but he has long since learned how to detect leadership and Blaine is practically glowing with the loyalty the boys give to him. It's beautiful and blinding and he has to look around to make sure that he hasn't accidentally made it corporeal. So soon after losing control like had, he wouldn't be surprised.

But nothing happens, everybody is still dancing to the music. He breathes a sigh of relief and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down further. These boys have done nothing wrong to him, they don't deserve to be caught up in an episode. When he focuses back on the room, Blaine is nodding at him. The song is over and he is compelled to clap despite rarely clapping at the end of the performances of his own glee-mates. Blaine, like Dalton, has something about him that pulls on Kurt's center like gravity. He moves immediately to Blaine's side when he's waved over, despite the hostility rolling off the two boys flanking him. Despite Pucks warnings against getting caught at spying, Kurt decides - looking at Blaine's bright, innocent eyes that look like they want to do anything for him - that getting caught was his best decision yet.