Viper Tresses (Gorgon Gorgeous)

Fandom: Assassination Classroom (Ansatsu Kyoushitsu)

Summary: Karma is afraid of drowning and so, so in love. (Medusa!Nagisa)

Warnings: Implication of rape.

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassination Classroom and all of this is my lovely enabler IWP-chan's fault (yes, she's the one you can hear cackling in the background).


There are snakes in your hair, slithering between the tresses.

I didn't know before, but I think I felt them.

You just sat there, in the middle of a greasy fast food restaurant, the world bleak and grey, except for you. Always you. Blue hair, blue eyes, the calm waters, you are. Shore, your name means, and aptly named you were.

You are colour, the rest is grey, and suddenly, I realized the shore wasn't safe. You were too easy to drown in- and what hid in your depths? What was there, fathoms below?

Your enormity left me reeling- gasping, clutching my arms, digging my nails into my skin until I bled (red, my colour), to shake myself free from you- a nightmare within a dream, you are. What's the difference anyway? I can't tell anymore.

(The ocean is in your eyes, and I know not what monsters lurk in you, but I can feel them gliding beneath your skin, caressing you. You are the sea, I want to hold you. You are the sea, stay with me. You are the sea, the wind, the tsunami. You are the sea, and I don't dare to swim too far from shore)

You could drown me.

I walk away and try not to listen to the siren song you sing behind me.

If I turn, if I keep my ear open to those naked, begging, vulnerable notes, I will look into your eyes and turn to stone- forever by your side.

You are wounded. I left you to rot.


Colour disappears from my world. Loneliness is black and white, forlorn in shades of grey. Dressed in shades of self-consciousness that do not suit me, I feed my confidence, my ego.

There is an aching hole where you used to be, jagged edges all around.

Why did you leave me shattered?

Why did you smite me down?

Oh.

Wait.

That was me.

(Mirror shards are sharp, my dear, and I can only see you in reflections, or else, I'll turn to stone.

A statue of my affections.

Isn't it wonderful?

Sculpted so well, with starlight hatred and a broken heart I broke on my own)


Here we are. An octopus in front of the class. It reminds me of you, only friendlier.

No- not friendlier. Less abused, perhaps.


There is a polite distance between us, and I hate it, but every step I take closer to you chokes me with glass shards tearing up my throat as I spit blood everywhere.

(You throw your own life away so easily, too easily. You are a Gorgon, your sisters are immortal, so are you not too?

Darling, darling sea. You are not.

You are the shore, made of what is eroded, demolished, ruined by water.

Did Athena cradle your broken body in her lap, when the water was done with you? Was she the one who, in anger, in devastation, in despair, morphed your lovely, lovely hair? Was she the one who saw your ravishing form for the curse it was and gave you a gaze of stone?

The snakes, the vipers, though. They always were there. They just broke the surface when the time was right, venom at ready.

Waiting all along, they'd been.

I felt it. You must know that)


You are not fussy about gender. At least, as long as no one refers to you by ''she''.

I should have known. You are Medusa, you do not want to be a woman. Women are vulnerable- and now, you've found men are too, and your vision of stone (women's gift, the gift of your goddess, the Maiden one) is gone. You are defenseless, or so you thought, because there are snakes in your hair, snakes in your heart, and gods, you are beautiful.

I can see your wings- they rested on your shoulder blades the entire time, visible when one looks at you from the corner of the eye, and now you spread them noiselessly.

To be or not to be, that is the question. To kill, or not to kill. After all these years, you want to save someone? Medusa, Medusa, my blue-haired Nagisa. You bound your vipers, put the tresses up high on your head.

Perhaps because you remember what it felt like to be headless, to be used even in death by the man who cleaved your head right off your shoulders. I catch sight of viper fangs, venom-dripping, bound, unleashed, however you want them, however you are, and my breath hitches.

I drown, drown and drown, and how, how could someone have killed the sea? How could someone have killed the home we all want? How…

Never mind. This is no time to ask questions.

I am red, for it is my colour, and you are blue, like the sea (not the water, you hate water, the water took what you would not give and though you rose from the ashes, rose from your corpse, rose from your death like it was nothing, you flinch, every time you think of it.

Do you cry at night?)

I want to reach out, cradle you and never let you go. I want to bury my head against your stomach and be shielded from the world by you in turn, because your hands are deadly, as are mine, and something about that just belongs together.

You have me on my back, choking me physically for once, murder arms around me, wings so high up they cast us in shadow. This fight was not meant for daylight.

A glint in between the leaves. My knife, my dagger. I scramble for it, hand closing around the old, leather-worn hilt. I raise it in the air like a crescendo, higher and higher, louder and louder, until it's near impossible to hear, but I can't crash it down like I should.

I am not you. I am no wave. I am vicious, to all, except those close to me, and you, with your chokehold around my neck, warm breath in pants against my skin, your sweat mingling with mine… You are the closest.

The closest ever.

I cannot bring myself to cut your wings off, even though you left your back unguarded, and with a thud, the knife falls, back to earth.

Gorgons have a peculiar quirk- the blood on one side of the body is deadly, the greatest poison one can drink. The other? It heals even the death.

I look at you, look at the sea, and perhaps… No, I'm certain, as much as I can be, that I'm ready. Sink or sail, if I drown, I drown in you.

Perhaps you'll drown and save me both.

Not such a bad fate, Nagisa.

''I yield.''