T. Starfire

Rules

I am keeping my ask box open for requests or questions unless the top of my page says otherwise. I love interacting with other people in the community, and this way is my particular favorite. I ask that you please do not abuse this. Any harassment and super personal questions (such as my real name, number, address, etc.) will be thrown out.

Leaving any harmful or hurtful comments on my posts towards me or anyone else will result in your reply being removed and your account being blocked. No exceptions.

All requests are taken in on a case by case basis. For the most part, I am willing to write anything except for incest. However, putting your request in does not automatically mean that it will be written. If I decide not to write your request, or it'll take me time to write your request, I will message you personally so you are not in the dark.

FANDOMS

🔥Assassination Classroom🔥

Renegade - Idol!Karma Akabane x Idol!Reader (COMING SOON)

💚My Hero Academia💚

🌟Breaking Formation🌟 - Misfit!Dabi x Cheerleader!Reader

✨Black Clover✨

Frosted Heart - Yuno x Reader (ON HIATUS)

ASK BOX

The morning light slanted across your bedroom walls in soft, golden stripes, catching on old dance ribbons still pinned above the vanity and the cracked phone case on your nightstand. The robe felt heavier than you expected—not suffocating, but grounded. Real.

You stood in front of the mirror, fingers brushing over the stitched crest at the hem, then up the honor cords draped around your neck. The cap sat snug on your head, tilted just enough to feel like you. Not a perfect student. Not a symbol. Just a girl who made it.

You barely recognized the reflection.

Not because you’d changed on the outside—though you had. The slight scar on your cheekbone, the strength in your shoulders, the way you stood with your chin lifted like you’d fought for the air in your lungs and didn’t plan on wasting it.

No, it was something deeper. A quiet steadiness.

There was a knock at your door. Then your mom peeked in.

Her eyes softened as she stepped into the room. “I thought you’d be nervous.”

“I am,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “But I’m not scared.”

Your mom’s smile was proud but laced with something tender, almost mournful. The kind of look parents give when they realize their child isn’t a child anymore.

“That’s the difference between who you were and who you are.”

You nodded, swallowing a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

Your phone buzzed on the windowsill. A text from Aria:

Kill it today, Grad Queen 👑

You smiled. Then looked back at the mirror one more time—really looked. This girl had bled. Had broken. Had been underestimated and written off and still walked out in full color.

You adjusted the cap slightly, squared your shoulders and whispered to your reflection:

“Let’s go.”

~~~

The gym was stifling—buzzing with the low hum of folding programs, camera shutters, and a dozen conversations whispered over the droning voice of the principal at the podium.

“...and to our graduating class, I say this: the world won’t wait for you to be ready. So don’t wait either.”

You sat in the second row of graduates, cords looped over your gown, tassel flicking against your cheek every time someone shifted beside you. Your hands were clasped in your lap, one thumb nervously rubbing over the edge of your fingernail.

The names started.

One after another. Applause. Cameras. Movement.

But your mind drifted.

It took you a moment to find him.

Dabi wasn’t sitting down. He never would be.

He stood off to the side, back row, leaning casually against the railing like he might vanish if anyone looked too long. Black hoodie. Sunglasses still on. Hands deep in his pockets. But his face—

His face changed when he saw you looking.

Not a smile exactly. But the tightness in his jaw eased. His shoulders relaxed. His mouth quirked just slightly, like he was letting himself feel something and not bothering to hide it.

You turned forward again, heart thudding.

The principal called your name. Honors distinction.

That was your cue.

You stood. Smoothed your robe. Walked.

The stage wasn’t long, but every step landed like punctuation. Head up. Shoulders back. The clack of your shoes against the wood echoed above the murmur of applause.

You took the diploma with a steady hand and shook the principal’s.

“Congratulations,” he said simply, eyes kind if a little tired.

Then you turned toward the crowd.

And found him again. Still there. Still watching.

Your fingers tightened around the diploma. Your smile came slowly—but it stayed.

You didn’t wave. Didn’t need to.

This was your moment. Yours alone.

But you knew he saw it.

And that was enough.

~~~

The summer air outside the gym was thick with humidity and noise—parents calling for group photos, graduates laughing, confetti still tangled in someone’s hair. Flashbulbs sparked against the fading daylight. The scent of flowers, sweat, and cheap cologne hung in the breeze.

You slipped past it all.

Your robe was unzipped, cords swinging with each step as you walked toward the edge of the crowd. The laughter behind you dimmed. You didn’t look back. Not for cameras. Not for praise. Not for proof.

You weren’t here to be seen.

“Hey.”

The voice came soft, but sharp as ever. Mina.

You turned. Mina stood a few feet away, arms crossed, lip glossed smudged just slightly from the heat. Her expression wasn’t cold. Just cautious.

“I didn’t expect you to finish the year.”

You gave a tired, almost wry smile. “I didn’t expect to finish it like this.”

Mina glanced down, then back up. “You surprised me.”

“I surprised myself.”

That hung in the air between them for a beat. Not heavy. Just real.

There was no hug. No sorry. No pretending.

But something in the static between them eased—like an old wire finally snapping loose from the tension it had been holding too long.

Mina nodded once. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“You too.”

She turned and walked off—shoulders square, hair bouncing in the breeze. And just like that, the chapter closed.

You exhaled.

And then you saw him.

Bakugo stood off to the side, half in shadow. Alone again, hands shoved in his pockets, scowl etched into his face like always. For a second—just a second—your eyes met with his.

But this time, he looked away first.

You didn’t follow. Didn’t call his name. Didn’t try to patch something that was never yours to fix.

Instead, you turned back to the parking lot, where Dabi leaned against his car, hands lazily resting on the roof. Waiting. Watching.

You walked toward him.

Toward now.

Toward next.

~~~

The courtyard was empty.

Sunlight pooled in gold across the pavement, painting long shadows from the flagpole and outlining the edges of the front steps in amber. The noise of graduation had faded—cars pulling away, families chattering, camera shutters clicking—until silence reigned again, soft and almost sacred.

You sat on the top step, cap in your lap, robe folded neatly beside you. Your bare shoulders caught the last rays of light. For the first time all day, you let yourself be still.

Footsteps crunched behind her.

“You looked taller up there,” Dabi said, voice casual, amused. The kind of fond that ran deep.

You smiled without turning. “I felt it.”

He sat beside you, back against the brick wall, legs stretched out like he owned the place. His hoodie sleeves were pushed to his elbows. A fading burn mark peeked out near his wrist. Neither of you commented on it.

“So now what?” he asked.

You inhaled slowly, then exhaled. “College. Cheer. Living.” A pause. “You?”

He shrugged. “Tattoo apprenticeship. Maybe piercings, too. I’ll keep my options reckless.”

You laughed—light, genuine. “You’re gonna be good at that.”

He tilted his head toward you, eyes crinkling. “I’m already good at this."

“At what?”

“Showing up when it counts.”

The words landed softly, no fanfare, no need to prove. Just the truth of it.

You turned to look at him then. Really look at him.

The guy who used to skip school and light cigarettes with a smirk. The one who kissed you like he had nothing to lose. The one who held your hair back when you cried, who helped you take off old wounds like jewelry you’d outgrown.

The one who stayed.

“I don’t want this to be the end,” you said, quietly.

He reached for your hand. Twined their fingers. “It’s not,” he said, and kissed her.

No fireworks.

No speeches.

Just warmth. Just breath. Just certainty.

The kind of kiss that didn’t try to mark a moment—but anchor it.

The sun dipped below the buildings. Shadows stretched. And the night, like everything else, moved forward.

Together, the two of you stood up.

He lives to push boundaries... except when it comes to your safety. That's his line in the sand. He will never deliberately put you in danger.

Knight!Karma Akabane pretends not to care about court politics but will have dirt on every noble in the room. If anyone tries to manipulate you, he's already ten steps ahead, even if you don't need it.

He hates authority unless it's yours (and even then, he'll sass you until you're red in the face, before obeying with a cheeky grin on his face).

Knight! Karma Akabane will never admit that he worries about your safety when you're out of his sight... but he'll always slip a blade into your shoe or remind you where the escape passages are.

Only you will ever see the quiet protectiveness he shows (like when he watches you sleep with a hand on his weapon at all times, knowing how many people would kill for your crown).

After a battle, the first that Knight!Karma Akabane does is find you, blood-streaked and tired, and check you over.

"You better not be hurt, or I'll kill whoever managed it. Even if it was you."

Knight!Karma Akabane has a jealous and possessive side of him, though he hides it under sarcasm.

If a suitor gets too close, Karma will suddenly be at yourside, arm draped casually across his sword hilt.

"Didn't know rats were allowed near royalty now."

He intimidates every potential suitor who flirts with you - even if you scold him for it later.

Knight!Karma Akabane would never betray your secrets, even under torture. If you confide in him, whether it be about your fears, or your burdens, he will guard that knowledge more fiercely than the castle gates.

Knight!Karma Akabane doesn't hesitate to put himself in danger for you. He would shrug off stab wounds with a grin if it meant you were unharmed.

"You're bleeding!" you say while giving him a once-over. "Yeah, but you're not, so... win-win."

Knight!Karma Akabane always has contingency plans in case of assassination attempts, poisonings, kidnappings - you name it. And they always work.

Knight!Karma Akabane will never say the words "I love you" first, but you feel in the way he always puts himself between you and the arrow.

You were never just his job. You were his life.