The BNHA Crack Ship I unironically love
I... I just love the dynamic they could have??? Like, evil crustie boi likes getting bossed around, fluffy angry bunny likes bossing around?
He likes getting pressed against walls and kissed like the world is falling apart? She likes pressing people up against walls and kissing them like the world is falling apart?
They’re both emotionally constipated, but she’s definitely more expressive of her feelings?
He’s a little jerk and sometimes the two of them will get in prank wars?
Or “yo mama” insult battles? Shigaraki always wins, because, like “Jokes on you, I killed my mama.” “Honey, do we need to move your therapist appointment?” “No!”
They give me the strongest “depressed emo boy/angry prep girl” vibes, and I’m just so here for it.
Miruko has bad days where she just crashes into him and he like, freezes completely, cause he’s not used to that, but she won’t let go and oh stars he’s got to go to the bathroom and he is completely trapped.
Yes. He is the little spoon. Yes, they cuddle too much. Yes, angry cuddles.
The two of them make Hawks want to vomit, because they’re fond of just starting to make out randomly, and for all his smooth talk, Hawks does not know how to deal with two people like that.
Miruko flips her friend off without taking her lips off of her lover.
Are they married? Someday. Right now? No. But THEY BICKER LIKE THEY’VE BEEN MARRIED FOR YEARS. They squabble about anything and everything. They’ll squabble while having different conversations at once. They’ll squabble while kissing. They’ll squabble while watching movies. They’ll squabble while in battle.
Their ship name should honestly be “Squabble” because the amount of petty arguments they have that neither of them is humble enough to back down from are such an integral part of this relationship.
They first met on patrol or something and she called him a “Son of a B*tch” and he told her to “shove it up your--”
Then, maybe a week later, they met up one night on accident in a club. She didn’t recognize him, but he one-hundred-percent recognized her. He knew exactly who she was and he convinced himself that kissing her was a good idea because then he could infiltrate the heroes. It definitely wasn’t because she took every challenge he gave her in stride, and their flirting styles were both excessive insulting and sarcasm, and he had never been so attracted to a woman in his life.
But she left him, that night, having an early day the next day and telling him she didn’t have time to spend with a man.
He flushed when she asked for his number, and rattled it off robotically. “What’s your name?” she asked. He’d shrugged. “Put me down as Tenko,” he said, and he didn’t know why. He hadn’t used that name for years.
Cue the texting, on opposite sides of a war only one person knew that they were fighting against each other.
“We should see each other again sometime soon,” she texted, one night, “You’re wonderful to talk to, and you don’t order me around.”
Shigaraki didn’t know how to tell her that they had seen each other again. Except she’d looked at him with scorn and anger. Even though, he knew, she could punch him in the face, at this point, and he’d kiss her knuckles where they touched him.
But he shoved it off, avoided prying personal questions, even though he told her more about his life than he’d ever told anyone ever before. Even if she didn’t know it was him. And if she knew it was him she’d never speak to him again.
Miruko was head over heels for him, not going to lie to you. There’s just something so stupid about him, she thought, texting him while silently watching the city, and yet he’s so terribly sweet. I’d hate myself for loving someone I’d only ever met once, she thought, but dang it if I don’t love this guy.
Shigaraki discovered something. If he specifically attacked places while he knew Miruko was on duty, he would get to see her more. She’d punch him in the face, he’d fight off a very painful desire to kiss her senseless, he’d wind up half dead, flung across the city, it was great.
Until, one day. Because all things that seem too good to be true must come to an end.
The entire city was under attack, Shigaraki and his villains at the helm, destroying, looting, and enjoying it. Dabi had not stopped grinning in hours. People’s livelihoods had gone up in smoke.
Shigaraki’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, carefully. He’d left his finger-covers at home.
Miruko’s name flashed on the screen. He swallowed, almost painfully.
“Are you okay?” Came the frantic voice that he knew far too well. “You weren’t answering your texts and I’m sorry that I spammed you but I swear to God, Tenko, if you’re hurt--”
“I’m fine,” he answered. “I’m not in danger. I’m safe.” He was lying through his teeth. He didn’t know if he’d make it out alive today, but a guy could hope.
“I hope so,” she snapped, “If you die and I’ve only ever kissed you once I’ll ressurrect you and kill you again, just for breaking my heart.”
He snorted. “I’ll stay alive for you, then, Princess.”
There was a moment of silence.
“I’m sorry, Tenko, I’ve gotta go, I’ve got sights on a group of villains, and I need to call for backup. Stay safe, okay?”
“Love you,” she said, briefly, so quickly he could have imagined it, and then the phone hung up.
He stared at it, shook, as it lay, silent in his hand.
And that’s when someone hit him in the back. He careened forward, and his fingers brushed the phone. All five, at once.
He yelped, startled, and sick to his stomach, watching every conversation he’d had with Miruko crumble away and vanish. Every long night, every aching sunrise that he’d turned away from with bleary eyes, every laugh, every single moment, and he whipped around, hands raised and unconscious tears in his eyes that were hidden behind the hand covering his face.
The woman who had told him she loved him only seconds ago glared him down. He instantly dropped his hands, feeling guilty.
She reached for him, but he dodged. And dodged, and dodged again. The Rabbit-hero screamed, angry, sort of, and demanded, “Why won’t you fight back? Do you like getting the crap kicked out of your sorry behind? Are you a masiochist?”
“If you’re into that,” he answered, slowly.
Her face went bright red. “Shut up!”
Then, Shigaraki got an idea. It wasn’t a good idea. It was an awful idea. Shigaraki got a wonderful, awful idea.
“How’s that little boy toy of yours,” he asked, nonchalantly, when she lunged for him again. “Tenko, was it?”
Her whole body froze and kept moving in the same moment. “how do you know that name?” she hissed, darkly, still attacking, avoiding the hands that he was now half-heartedly attempting to throw at her.
“Oh, word on the street is our favorite Rabbit-Hero’s been falling for someone she only met once.”
Miruko stumbled, just a little. “You don’t know anything about it. Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong.”
“Am I?” Shigaraki wanted to grin at her, sadistically, like some villain in an old movie. “Or do I know exactly where your little love-dove is, right now?”
She stilled, entirely, and took a step back.
“Call him, Miruko,” Shigaraki said, “See if he answers.”
But she was gone, leaping away, and she was out of sight. Completely gone. Very gone.
His whole body sagged forwards, slightly. That was over and done with. For the both of them. He’d never text her, never call her, and she’d assume Tenko was dead. It was the best way to do that, probably. It was going to have to end eventually. This was just a little faster than what he’d thought it would be, anyway.
Around him, of course, the city had burned.
She came for him later, though. Anyone would have, Shigaraki was just an idiot. He’d thought maybe she didn’t care that much. No one could care that much about an idea of someone met in person but sustained over texts.
Shigaraki was knocked to the ground, and his whole body was aching when she demanded, “Did you kill him.”
It wasn’t even a question, just a demand. Simple. Fierce. Angry.
“Tenko. My Tenko. Did you kill him.”
Something about the name he hadn’t used in years on her lips made everything easier and harder all at once. “So what if I did?”
“You’re a hero, you can’t kill me.”
“I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.”
He swallowed. “Why? He was just some guy--”
“Some guy? Some guy!? He was an idiot, alright, but he was my idiot, and sure, he was probably leading me on, but hell, I loved him, okay? I loved that stupid idiot and I loved every conversation we had, no matter if it was over text or not. And I said that if I never got to kiss him again I’d resurrect him and kill him again myself. So tell me. Did. You. Kill. Him.”
Tomura Shigaraki had never thought he’d find that kind of thing romantic.
But HOT DAMN. THAT WAS ROMANTIC.
“Then tell me where he is,” her voice was a snarl. “Or not even your stupid quirk will be able to destroy my anger.”
Well, he thought, at least I’ll die by her hands. That’s the way I’ve always wanted to go. “Right here, Princess.”
Of course, she’d punched him in the gut so hard he’d had to revisit the taste of his lunch. She looked on in disgust. “Where is he.”
“Here,” he said, “I’m... I’m the guy you’re looking for. Always was. You can go ahead and kill me now. I await my glorious death at your hands.”
She hit him again, and he tasted blood.
“I want him back, you blithering idiot,” she snarled. How could a rabbit be so violent? He loved her for it. It was sexy as all get out.
“Well, he’s right here, and you’re--”
She hit him and he choked on a cough. Was one of his ribs broken, now?
“You’re beating me up, Miruko.”
She scoffed. “I’m beating up a villain,” she snapped. “Not Tenko.”
“You met Tenko at a club on Friday, October Third,” he said, crouched where he was on the ground, his fingers gritting into the dirt. “You called him “hottie” and said that you thought his hair looked like a cloud. And then you talked with him for about four months, non-stop texting. You called him to tell him to stay alive during that attack, didn’t you?”
Miruko was quiet. “Take that stupid hand off your face.”
Shigaraki did not want to. “No.”
She reached out for him, and before he could even flinch away, she pulled the hand off his face.
The silence between them stretched like a thin piece of rubber for a good fifteen minutes.
“Well,” she said, finally, somehow not very flustered, “Hot and stupid as ever, I suppose. You certainly need to work on your communication skills.”
“As do you,” He answered. “You didn’t believe me.”
“You’re a villain,” she snapped. “It’s your job to lie.”
He shrugged, casually getting up. “Yeah, true. I’ll get out of your hair, I guess then, Miruko.”
She’d grabbed his arm, hard, and he couldn’t move. “Did you not hear all the crap I just said about loving you?”
He’d laughed until he’d choked on his own blood. “That’s for someone you made up, isn’t it, Miruko? I’m a villain. You’re a hero. Never the twain shall meet.”
“Maybe they should,” she said, “Maybe they ought to. After all, if it was you I was talking to for all this time, you know far too much about me, and I know far too much about you. We’re both too powerful on our own.”
He was quiet. She wasn’t wrong. They could both destroy each other. It had just been nice to have someone to talk to about things that she wasn’t involved in. He couldn’t exactly rant to Dabi about how much he missed his parents. Dabi hated his parents. He couldn’t whine to Himiko about how boring life was, she could go anywhere she wanted, if she had a sip of blood. Maybe he was whiny, pesky, and a fool, but he liked Miruko. And if Miruko still liked him, despite the fact that half the time his lips were nonexistent, well. That was definitely something.
Her hands had been calloused when she cupped his cheeks. “I’ll be a villain for you if you be a hero for me.”
His breath had caught in his lungs. “Does it mean I get to kiss you?”
“If you want,” she answered, “There’s nothing stopping you.”
