Okay now im just thinking about how Blaine thought Kurt was yelling at him. WHAT IF he has puppet kurt and he swears he hears Puppet Kurt talking to him. Puppet Kurt tells him that he’s so much better than those new directions. They’re jealous of him and are just holding the team back. Especially that pesky Artie. Artie always had a smart mouth. He tells Blaine he should probably get rid of Artie, after all it would be best.
Eventually the rest of the glee club begins to slowly lose members and Blaine can’t help but keep listening to Puppet Kurt. Why would Puppet Kurt want this? It doesn’t matter, he’s making him happy after all right?
Blaine is an independent/amateurish photographer that discovers an abandoned hospital. Upon exploring it, however, he starts to get the feeling that he’s not alone.
a/n: supernatural! here there be ghosts. eeehhh kind of (it’s a little bit fantasy too). pretend I wrote this before halloween, okay. ~6k
warnings: prior character death, mentions of mental asylum practices, internalized/general homophobia with reference to said asylum
He shouldn’t be doing this without a permit or backup or something, but he can’t help it. Blaine had spotted the ruins while driving to work (his actual work as a bartender in Columbus) and immediately felt the need to go back and photograph them.
The building itself, an old hospital the name of which has long since given way to rust, is partly collapsed and ridden with moss. There are signs of people having been here recently — footprints in the soft, dry dirt where plants haven’t yet taken over.
Blaine doesn’t know how long the hospital has been left like this. He has no idea how to figure it out, either; abandoned places don’t usually fill his photo galleries. They creep him out a little bit but for some reason, this hospital is drawing him in.
Awesome, your art is amazing :) can you do some Halloween Hummelberry, or just them in costumes being adorable? Thank you :)
Kurt and Rachel would SO be those creepy girls from “The Shining”~!
I also ended up coming up with a spooky AU, if you don’t mind!
Okay so Rachel really wants a boyfriend to take to prom! So she goes to desperate measures and decides to bring back a hottie from ancient times! (because bringing back recent dead people would be pretty problematic…) So she find this cutie named Kurt Hummel, from the Victorian era and decides he’s the one!
As soon as she digs up his bones and does the ritual junk, he appears and she is SO HAPPY. ” AH! Finally my own boyfriend and prom date!” Kurt would eye her and just say ” Sorry but you don’t meet certain qualifications to me by lover.” she would deflate and curse her luck, BUT kurt would then reply with a sly ” But I can assist you in finding a nice boy. If they don’t like you, then we’ll have them over for dinner.” Rachel would hug him and agree anyways because HELLO HER VERY OWN BOYFRIEND FINDER!
Little does she know that Kurt used to be a cannibalistic loon and was hanged for his crimes!
Samta Claus and Blaine are being held captive by the Oogie Boogie man, can Kurt save them in time? Is he even still alive? For Riley!
“Don’t worry, Samta.” Blaine said, looking nervously from the shackles tying him up to the open window he’d originally tried to sneak Claus out of. “Kurt will come and save us.”
“Kurt?!” Sam cried, indignant, “That idiot who got us into this mess?”
“He’s not an idiot!” Blaine snapped before he could stop himself. “He’s…he’s kind, and gentle. He…he sees me.” Blaine bit his lip, letting his eyes slip closed, “He actually sees me…” Blaine opened his eyes again and snapped back to reality, “I know he—he kidnapped you and stole your holiday, but Kurt is good. He knows we’re here and he’ll save us.”
Sam was staring at Blaine with a raised eyebrow, “What makes you so sure of that? I thought Boogie said he was dead?”
Blaine paused, considering that for a moment, the sickening horror he’d felt when he saw Kurt’s sleigh go down. No, Kurt couldn’t be dead. He knew he couldn’t. He would feel it. “He’s not. I just…I just know.”
fkhkgk OR JUST DARK ENOUGH. Adam keeps showing up at the door to his crypt every night, always with just a bit of self-loathing because he knows he shouldn’t, HE KNOWS HE SHOULD DO HIS JOB BUT HE CAN’T, WRITE THIS PLS.
"You’re a demon," Adam snarls, yanking the wickedly curved knife from the top of his boot. "I should kill you where you stand and you have the gall to be offended over my suspicion? When the both of us know that you’re only purpose in life is to torment."
Kurt moves before Adam can blink, one hand gripping too tight around his wrist, cracking the bone for spite. Fingers curl warningly around his windpipe.
"Idle threats make quick hands falter," he hisses, eyes burning laser-blue. "Don’t pull a blade on me you don’t intend to use."
Adam pushes against the hand at his neck, wishing absently that the pressure was more, was just enough to end it.
Kurt draws his thumb along the rabbit-quick beat of his pulse point, slow- as if making a point. “Did it ever occur to you, Watcher, that maybe I was supposed to be a comfort? Hmm? But you just can’t let her go long enough to stop hating yourself. You won’t let anything good happen to you- so how can I be anything good?”
He shoves Adam to the dirty crypt floor, dust motes whirling through the dim blue light of the night. “We’re done here- get out. The stench of your self-loathing is ruining my appetite.”
Despite his words, Kurt leaves first, footsteps sure and hard as they echo in the chilly silence settling gently across Adam’s slumping shoulders.
I HAVE THIS HALF-MADE BACKSTORY WHERE ADAM’S SLAYER BRUTALLY DIES AT SUCH A YOUNG AGE, HE NEVER GETS OVER IT. KURT’S LIKE A PUNISHMENT WHEN HE WANTS TO BE.
AU: Kurt gets off on guro smut and wants to try mutilating and killing someone in real life. Kurt views gore like sex, and he can't share that with just anyone, so naturally, he tries to talk Blaine into it. Blaine goes along with it because Kurt just seems so hopeful and excited and Blaine doesn't want to upset him by saying no.
Kurt: You should really try it blaine, it’s SO fun!
He feels in control like this, safe and aloof. His past is far behind him, left in a dusty town to rot, and sure, maybe he regrets what he’s become; maybe he wishes he could have a normal life with a lucrative career, that he didn’t have to sever every tie with every person he’d known before New York. But even if he’d done that he has a feeling that the pull and allure of the kill would be too much. It’s always been in his blood; this need for revenge, to show everyone that Kurt Hummel can stand up for himself. He’s not just a punching bag without feelings.
as amazing as Kurt and Blaine as thieves are, serial killers fascinate me more. full warnings under the cut, but be known that this fic contains character death
Summary: Kurt is Lima, Ohio’s most notorious serial killer. Before his fate can be decided, however, he needs to visit the state’s best psychiatrist in an attempt to determine the state of his mental health: Sebastian Smythe.
AN: just a short little something that i whipped up after watching the finale of Hannibal last night (don’t wanna talk about it)
Warnings: minor character death, implied relationship between a killer and his psychiatrist
“They’ve brought you here to discuss your mental health,” Sebastian explains slowly, flipping through the large folder of information collected on the patient before him. “I hope you understand that nothing you tell me today will be private.”
Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. Born: March 27, 1994. Gender: Male Height: 5’11’’
Sitting across from him, Kurt is staring intently at his shoes, as if realizing that this is the last time he’ll ever get to pick out his own outfit.
commission for Amy who asked for serial killer!Kurt (I hope this is okay!)
word count: 1700
The flat green light of his alarm clock tells him it’s well after one am when the sharp knock on his door jolts him awake. He blinks blearily, frowning as he sits up and scrubs a hand over his face. There’s another knock and he grumbles, dragging himself out of bed and yawning hugely, feet shuffling over the floor.
"Coming," he croaks after another loud knock rings through his apartment. "Chill out."
He checks the peephole out of habit and his stomach lurches in his gut, heart in his throat at the sight on the other side of the door.
"Dammit," he mutters, resting his head against the cool metal and squeezing his eyes shut, struggling to swallow back the hard lump in his throat. He jumps at the next knock, straightening and blinking rapidly a few times before fixing a strained smile on his face and tugging the door open.
"Hey, baby," he says tiredly, smile softening when the man in front of him smiles shyly back