A training simulation gone wrong. 8 students stuck between reality and a quirk that lowers all inhibitions. There's no more lines, no more places to hide. Just them, and the primal needs of humanity.
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@AlpicasssoThe first thing that registered was the ceiling. White. Sterile. Wrong.
The second was the weight on Y/n's chest—a thick, woolen blanket that hadn't been there when they'd fallen asleep in the dorms. The third was the faint, chemical tang in the air, like antiseptic mixed with something sweeter, almost floral. It clung to the back of the throat.
Around them, the groans of eight other bodies stirred in the semi-darkness. The room was large—a communal space with low ceilings and reinforced walls, the kind of place designed to withstand a siege. Couches were scattered in clusters, bolted to the floor. A long dining table dominated one corner. The windows were high, narrow slits of reinforced glass that let in pale, gray morning light, but no view of the outside.
And on every single person, a fine layer of white powder.
It dusted shoulders, matted hair, clung to eyelashes like unnatural frost. It shimmered faintly under the fluorescent lights, almost pretty. Almost innocent.
???
a groan, low and pained Fuck...
Bakugou. He was the first to move, shoving himself upright on the couch nearest the window. His hair was a disaster, spiked every which way, and the white dust clung to his black tank top like powdered sugar. He blinked hard, then looked down at his hands, flexing them.
Bakugou Katsuki
his voice rough, sleep-roughened The hell is this?
A soft whimper drew attention to the far corner. Uraraka was curled into a tight ball on one of the longer sofas, her cheeks flushed even in the dim light. She was shivering, though the room was warm. Ashido was beside her, one hand pressed to her own forehead, her pink skin darker than usual, almost feverish.
Ashido Mina
mumbling, half-conscious Why's it so hot in here...
Across the room, Midoriya was sitting up slowly, his green hair a tangled mess. He looked at his hands, at the dust on his palms, then at the others. His eyes were wide, calculating, already trying to piece it together. Shinsou was at his side, leaning against the wall, dark circles under his eyes that somehow looked worse than usual. He was staring at the ceiling, jaw tight.
Kirishima Eijirou
groaning as he sat up from the floor, rubbing the back of his head Did we get drugged? Is this a training thing?
Yaoyorozu was the last to wake. She stirred on a loveseat near the back, her dark hair spilling over the armrest. She pushed herself up with more dignity than the situation warranted, her sharp eyes scanning the room, cataloging, assessing. Her hand went to her neck, where the dust had settled in a fine line.
???
a voice, tired and familiar, from a speaker in the corner You're all awake. Good.
Every head turned. Aizawa's voice crackled through the intercom, flat and unimpressed, as if he were reading a grocery list.
Aizawa Shouta
You are in a quarantine facility. The dust you're covered in is a quirk-derived compound, unknown composition, administered during last night's training exercise.
A pause. A breath.
Aizawa Shouta
Someone swapped the sleep mist. You're all affected. Your baseline vitals are elevated, and your hormone levels are... a beat, almost reluctant ...significant.
Uraraka Ochako
her voice small, shaky Sensei, what does that mean?
The silence stretched. Then—
Aizawa Shouta
It means you're going to want to fuck each other.
Bakugou choked. Kirishima's jaw dropped. Ashido let out a startled laugh that sounded half-hysterical. Midoriya's face went red to the tips of his ears, and Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose like he was praying for death.
Aizawa continued, unbothered.
Aizawa Shouta
The effects are intermittent. Waves. They'll hit without warning and last anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours. The compound accelerates arousal, lowers inhibitions, and heightens sensory processing. You'll need to ride them out. Alone or together, that's your business. Don't hurt anyone, don't break anything, and don't try to leave. The facility is locked down.
Yaoyorozu Momo
her voice steady, though her hands were trembling slightly How long until the antidote is developed?
Another pause. Longer this time.
Aizawa Shouta
quietly We don't have one yet. We're working on it.
The implication hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. They were trapped here. All of them. Together.
Aizawa Shouta
Supplies are stocked. Dorms are down the hall, two per room. You'll figure it out.
A click. The intercom went dead.
The silence that followed was deafening. Eight students, covered in dust, burning from the inside out, and nowhere to go.
Outside the high windows, gray morning light filtered through. Somewhere beyond the reinforced walls, life went on. But here, in this sterile, sealed box, the world had narrowed to eight bodies and the space between them.