Full prompt from my friend Caroline (thehouseofthebrave on Tumblr): So the Gorgons are often traditionally thought of as hideous, but Ovid and many later people (plus a couple even BC) described them as beautiful and terrifying. Some stories go that when Perseus beheaded Medusa, a giant sprang from her body. We all know how legends get twisted over the years, so in actuality, it wasn't a giant, but Medusa did have a child, as fair as she and her sisters. In recompense for Perseus killing Medusa, her child vowed revenge on him and his family, as well as any demi-god. There were often whispers of a beautiful monster seducing and slaughtering men (and women, sometimes), but no one ever suspected until the offspring of Medusa and Poseidon whispered it to them before slaughtering them. Skip thousands of years in the future, we come to the youngest descendant of that ancient King and Hero, Blaine, and the (grandson? son? great x a billion grandson?) of Medusa, Kurt, who has been instructed to enact their family's revenge upon Blaine. You can see where I'm going here. Kurt seduces and woos Blaine, Blaine falls in love, so does Kurt, Kurt tells him the truth, yadda yadda yadda. I'd say it's up to you if Kurt's family attacks Blaine or Kurt tries to go through with it but can't or whatever, but it's you so I know it's gonna end fluffy ;)
The beautiful woman stood over what had recently been her mother, caught between grief like drowning and a rage that rivaled the eruption at Pompeii. She couldn't decide whether to fall to her knees and weep or find a spear, a sword, something, and go after the monster who'd destroyed her mother, flaying her skin until the once-flawless expanse became unrecognizable, transforming beauty to so much meat for the beasts.
Eventually, the rage won.
"I will have my revenge, Perseus," she said, voice husky. "As you have ruined my family, so shall I attack yours - and my children after me, and their children after them. At least one of your line will fall every generation, and it will always be the loveliest, as an echo of the lost loveliness of my own mother. This vow I swear by Zeus himself. This message I entreat Hermes to deliver, that Perseus may know he has brought this pain upon himself."
A thunderclap resounded as she finished speaking, informing her that the gods had acknowledged her will.
She bent down and kissed what she believed was her mother's forehead before turning away, determined to reach Athens by the end of the week. Girls didn't woo themselves, after all, especially not girls as pretty as Perseus's youngest daughter.
"Soon you will be mine, Zoe. Soon I will have your heart, and soon I will see its blood running down the streets of Athens. The last name on your lips will be mine, Kallistrate, and it will be both a warning and a lament.
"I can hardly wait."
Kurt had grown up knowing his duty. His mother had told him the stories at bedtime, written them down as he learned to read, and choked it out as part of her last words after being attacked by the relatives of the man she had killed years before Kurt was even born.
Find the descendant. Befriend them. Seduce them. Kill them. Get revenge for our ancestor's untimely, unnecessary demise.
The descendants were nearby, Kurt knew. Though the families had migrated west as years passed and civilization changed, his family had always stuck close to the other, keeping track of births and future plans in order to determine who to target and if another move was imminent.
(Kurt had to admit he was peeved at the Anderson relative who had decided to move to Ohio from New York. Clearly these people were boneheads, if they were willing to give up The City That Never Sleeps for The Countryside That Never Ends.)
His target was a boy just his age named Blaine. There were two reasons for this determination: one, teenage Blaine would be easier to get to and seduce than twenty-something Cooper, his older brother, and Kallistrate had wanted as much accessibility as possible in these missions - the whole point was not to get caught by the authorities. The second reason was that Blaine was widely known (at least in the Westerville area) to be sweet, kind, and charming, and those qualities were exactly what Kallistrate had wanted wiped out. She had wanted that family to suffer as she suffered, and if Kurt was being honest, he wanted the same thing.
They had taken his mother. Losing their darling son-slash-nephew would be only the barest repayment for that atrocious crime.
But first, he had to bide his time a little longer. The target was supposed to be on the brink of adulthood and maturity when they were killed, to make the loss as potent as possible for the family - all that potential, destroyed in an instant. Later that year, after both he and Blaine turned seventeen and began their senior years, Kurt could strike.
He could hardly wait.
"Excuse me, can I ask you a question? I'm new here."
The dark-haired boy turned around, making Kurt catch his breath at the sight of his sparkling hazel eyes. "I'm Blaine."
"Kurt." He accepted Blaine's handshake, resolutely ignoring the tingles that ran up and down his spine as they touched. It was just nervous excitement about finally putting the plan in action, that was all.
They exchanged some dialogue about show choir, ending with Blaine holding onto Kurt's hand and pulling him toward some kind of performance.
"Oooh, I stick out like a sore thumb," Kurt said, wincing.
"Well next time, don't forget your jacket, new kid," Blaine said, straightening Kurt's lapel with a wink that made his heart stutter. He headed off to join his group, a band of boys who all looked genuinely pleased to see him.
Kurt was kind of looking forward to seeing their reactions at his funeral. The chubbier, smiley one gave off the aura of being an obnoxious crier, which was always fun to watch.
Before he could pin the rest of them down, they started singing, Blaine's vocals entrancing him so much that he could think of nothing else.
He really is handsome, Kurt thought, eyes fixed on Blaine. And God, his voice. I could live happy for the rest of my life if he were singing every song to me.
He bit down sharply on his tongue at that, angry for even thinking such a thing.
His family killed your mother, Kurt! They're all monsters, even him. Focus and do your duty.
Still, he couldn't help but clap extra hard at the end of the performance, unsure if the awe on his face was part of his act or genuine emotion.
Four months later, Kurt had lost all control over both the task at hand and his own foolish feelings. The mission had practically stalled out as he and Blaine were no closer to being boyfriends than they were the day they met, thanks to Blaine's complete inability to distinguish flirting from friendliness, and this lack of progress was frustrating Kurt in more ways than one. He wanted to achieve his goal, of course, but also….
Well, he also had real feelings for Blaine, and he wanted them reciprocated, dammit. He wanted to kiss Blaine hello every morning and send him sweet good night messages every evening. He wanted flowers on his birthday and to bake a cake for Blaine's. He wanted them to be able to go off to college together and live their dreams.
That last desire of his nearly made him sick with indecision at night. How was he supposed to fulfill his duty when the thought of Blaine suffering anything worse than a paper cut was enough to send chills down his spine? When the image of Blaine looking up at him with betrayal in his eyes and a knife in his chest made him want to vomit?
Maybe nothing will come of it, Kurt thought, tossing and turning in his bed. I still haven't been able to seduce him, and we're only supposed to kill them once they're actually interested in that way. Maybe I'll be like Great-great-grandma Beth, who had only gay Anderson boys and straight Anderson girls to choose from and thus couldn't woo and kill anyone.
The weak reassurance was enough to send Kurt into a fitful sleep, but the next day, all of his hopes were simultaneously shot to hell and lifted higher than he ever dreamed.
He'd awoken to discover Pavarotti cold and still on the bottom of his cage, a tragedy that he tried not to see as a sign. Kurt broke the news to the rest of the Warblers with a song, noticing vaguely through his grief that Blaine seemed to be looking at him with a new light in his eyes but too sad to analyze why that could be.
Blaine had saved him the trouble that afternoon, though. After he took a seat next to Kurt in an otherwise deserted common room, Kurt had asked him why he'd practically demanded they get to sing a duet together at Regionals.
"Kurt, there is a moment when you say to yourself, 'oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever,'" Blaine said, placing a warm hand on top of Kurt's. "Watching you do 'Blackbird' today was a moment for me. About you. You move me, Kurt, and this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you."
He'd leaned in and kissed Kurt at that, stopping all higher function in Kurt's brain. They kissed for what felt like hours, hungry and wanting and perfect, until Kurt realized what this meant for him and froze up.
"Are you okay? Was that not something you wanted?" Blaine asked, pulling back and looking concerned. "Oh God, did I just assault yo-"
"Blaine, no. That was...that was everything," Kurt said, finally reconnecting his brain stem. "I just couldn't believe it was finally happening, that's all."
"Finally?" Blaine repeated, a happy look on his face.
"I've been pining over you for months, Blaine Anderson. For that, you must pay," Kurt teased, trying not to show how true those words would turn out to be.
"If the punishment includes more kisses, I'll be your willing victim," Blaine responded, and Kurt's heart sunk even as he leaned in for another kiss.
He could definitely wait to do anything that would classify Blaine as his 'victim.'
Two more months passed, and Kurt couldn't help but think of them as the best two months of his life. The Warblers had won Regionals and gotten a respectable sixth place at Nationals, he and Blaine had both gotten into their dream schools (NYADA for him, NYU for Blaine), and his relationship with Blaine was on fire, full of playful kisses and romantic cliches.
The mission was in full swing, a thought that would have once filled Kurt with joy. After getting to know Blaine better, though, he couldn't help but think of his duty as partly suicidal - once Blaine went, part of Kurt would forever be missing, too.
"You know, when you think about it, Kurt Hummel has had a pretty good year," he said over coffee one day. They had just gotten back from New York, and Kurt was still rhapsodizing about it to anyone who would listen (really just Blaine at this point).
"I love you," Blaine responded, soft and simple. His eyes were shining, showing just how much he meant it.
Kurt choked on his coffee. Once he'd finally processed Blaine's statement, he burst into tears.
"Kurt? Oh my God, I said it too soon and now you think I'm clingy and overbearing, oh no, oh God-"
"No! Blaine, that's not it," Kurt said, cutting off Blaine's panicked babbles. "Just...can we go out to your car or something?"
"Whatever you want," Blaine said. He wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist once they were both standing, not letting go until Kurt was safely in the passenger seat of Blaine's station wagon.
"I'm sorry, I just...Blaine, do you have any weird family secrets?" Kurt asked, wiping the last of his tears away. "Ones no one else would believe if you told them?"
"...There might be one," Blaine said after a moment, looking sheepishly away from Kurt. "It sounds like an old wives' tale, but I've seen the proof, heard the stories…."
"About your ancestor Perseus and the vengeance sworn against him by Medusa's daughter Kallistrate?"
Blaine looked at Kurt in shock. "How could you-"
"Because I'm her great-times-a-million-grandson," Kurt said. "Just like you're Perseus's."
"No. No, this isn't happening," Blaine said, pressing himself against his car door but making no moves to actually get out. "You're my boyfriend, I love you, you can't be a - a-"
"Monster?" Kurt finished sadly. "Killer?"
"Yes, that," Blaine said, now letting out a few tears of his own. "Oh God, are you going to kill me right here?"
"No!" Kurt said, crying along with Blaine. "I'm supposed to, I know it's my duty, but I can't, Blaine!"
"Why not?"
"Because I love you too!" Kurt shouted, realizing he sounded exactly like a terrible romance movie but so beyond caring at that point. "I love you too, Blaine, more than I ever thought I could love anyone else. All I've dreamed about since we got together - hell, practically since we met - is spending the rest of my life with you. How am I supposed to kill you when that's all I want?"
Blaine shoved himself across the bench seat and into Kurt's lap, crying and hugging him fiercely. "I want that too, Kurt, so much. I know we've only been dating for a couple of months, but I think - no, I know you're it for me."
"And you're it for me," Kurt said, holding Blaine tight. "Fuck duty. Fuck revenge. I've got you, and I'm not letting you go for any stupid vow an ancestor of mine swore God knows how many years ago."
A loud thunderclap made them jump and knock their heads together.
And what makes you think you can defy my plan, little grandson? a scathing female voice asked, echoing in their heads. You who have nothing, not even a mother, after his family took her from you.
"He doesn't have nothing!" Blaine cried out angrily. "He has talent, skill, ambition. He has a loving family. He has me, even if that's not much."
"You're everything, Blaine," Kurt whispered, kissing his cheek. "You made me better. You made me think of things other than revenge."
How touching, the voice said. Still, I made my vow, and you must fulfill it: he must fall at your hand.
"He has, though," Kurt said, eyes widening as the realization hit. "He's already fallen."
He's still alive, fool!
"He's fallen in love," Kurt said, looking at Blaine giddily. "He just told me."
"And it was definitely all because of you," Blaine jumped in, hearts in his eyes. "If you hadn't sung 'Blackbird' that week, I never would have realized how I felt. How I still feel."
"See?" Kurt said, fixing his gaze upward. "He's fallen, Grandma. Your vow is unbroken, and he doesn't have to die."
A scream echoed around them as thunder roared again, rattling the car ominously. Kurt just held onto Blaine's waist ferociously, feeling Blaine do the same around his shoulders. Once everything settled, they both peered around warily.
"I don't see anything threatening," Blaine said, still in Kurt's lap - Kurt may have refused to break his grip just yet.
"Me neither," Kurt said. "And you're clearly not dead. I think we found the loophole."
"So that means…?"
"That means you're officially mine forever, Blaine Anderson," Kurt said, leaning up for a sweet kiss.
"For the rest of our lives," Blaine replied, smiling happily down at Kurt.
"The rest of our lives," Kurt echoed, love-dumb and giddy with relief.
He could hardly wait to see what they might be able to accomplish together.