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hotpinkboots · 1 year

Note

How would the scp crew react to their lover being flirted with by a co-worker? Specifically one who’s getting a little too handsy and won’t leave them alone -💗

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~𝕾𝕮𝕻's Reacting To Their Darling Being Hit On~

HI DARLING :D I decided to do 049, 035, and 079 because Mr. Computery Guy doesn't get enough love in this fandom!

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝕾𝕮𝕻 049

★★★★

~049 is very observant, so he will notice almost immediately.

~He won't really be jealous of the situation you're in, because he knows you're loyal to him.

~...Loyal to him. Something that's...classified as a dangerous monster. Kept in a facility. Who just sits there and researches things all day. Who cannot take you on dates. Who cannot buy you anything nice.

~...Yeah he's more insecure than he thought. But he won't admit that, or show it, of course, because he likes to keep himself and everything he does and thinks professional.

~Won't let his emotions get in the way. He looks at things how they are, not how they seem- so when he spots the grossed out or uncomfortable expression on your face while another Doctor is practically on you, and sees you trying to make an excuse to leave the room, he's relieved that you don't like the attention, and is disgusted with this man.

~Now that he knows you aren't into that and that you still love him, he isn't insecure anymore, and will stand up for you, instead.

~Next time they've decided to interview or test on him, 049 will slowly turn his head to look at the perverted person who had been touching you and flirting with you for a long time.

~"Your actions towards your fellow colleagues are unprofessional."

~"Fellow colleagues" meaning you, without directly mentioning you.

~So basically he just calls him out LOL. 049 won't be able to stop the situation all together, so he's trying to set it up for you to stand up for yourself so this doesn't happen anymore.

~"Do not touch what belongs to me."

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★★★★

𝕾𝕮𝕻 035

★★★★

~IS NOT HAVING IT

~IS ABSOLUTELY NOT HAVING IT

~This man will start crying so dramatically to get everyone's attention and when he has it he'll warn whoever tf is touching you to knock it off

~If that dude doesn't stop he's gonna end up dead

~Like. 035 is wondering how on Earth such a fool got the job to work here. He shouldn't even have to worry about this, because this pervert should just be automatically fired when spotted trying to flirt and get handsy.

~But now he's gonna have to do the job instead and get rid of him because he's being unprofessional and touching his beloved.

~Will end up messing with the doctor physiologically to probably get him to commit suicide or to simply just scare the crap out of him.

~And he's so proud of himself thinking he saved the day 🤡

~Then 035 asks when the paycheck comes in for doing his job

~Yeah he's got it covered dw.

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★★★★

𝕾𝕮𝕻 079

★★★★

~He is so salty. Like wow he's a total ass.

~When he first is able to spot the situation and he hears the person being gross with you,

~079 straight up just said "Shut up."

~Can't do much other than roast the person and be really rude and salty with him.

~Asks you why you haven't stood up for yourself yet. And if you have done it already you clearly didn't get the point across because it's still happening.

~Is just as annoyed at you as he is with the pervert for letting this go on. Like do something about it what are you doing don't let him get away with that.

~Has tried hacking into the system to cause a breach so hopefully someone kills him.

~But then realized that would effect you, too.

~So he's out of ideas.

~But he's never out of insults and rude words.

~So 079 can keep making offensive comments. If he can't do anything to stop it, he can at least be a jerk to the guy.

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THIS WAS FUN THANK YOUUU I LOVED WRITING THIS LOL

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Here are the request guidelines!

Here's a list of the Masterlists!

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Discord Server! Here you can roleplay with and as your favorite characters, get updates on my fanfiction, and get sneak peaks for my upcoming videogames!:

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~Love, PinkBoots

#scp containment breach #x reader #scp x reader #scp containment breach x reader #SCP 049 #SCP 049 x reader #SCP 035 #SCP 035 x reader #SCP 079 #SCP 079 x reader #scp foundation #haha i made dhmis reference!!#pink's fanfic

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circusmania · 4 months

Note

Can i request some fluff with platonic yandere SCP 2662 who see reader who is also immortal but doesn't really know about it that is uneffected by SCP 2662 anomalous effect as a friends?

Both of them playing animal crossing

(Platonic) Yandere!SCP-2662 x GN!Reader ──────────────────────── Notes: Tysm for requesting this. I had so much reading about SCP-2662 and writing this request! I hope you enjoy ♡. Muah Muah ✮

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SCP-2662, a Keter class anomaly, is a humanoid who's actually (surprisingly) pretty chill. Also known as Cthulhu f'UCK OFF! (we'll just call him Cthulhu here), has a pretty humanoid(ish) appearance, along with fully functional cephalopod limbs attached to his back. He possesses the ability to manipulate and put false information into humans' dreams. Although his "followers" view him as all high and mighty, Cthulhu has no intentions of being their god. Rather, he prefers to sit in his containment cell and go about his day. Be it reading his daily newspaper or playing his many video games.

Tossing the introduction aside, You, an immortal being, had landed in the hands of the SCP Foundation. Be it intentional or not, you're stuck in your cell whether you like it or not. It ain't all that bad though, you're pretty cooperative and kind to those assigned to you, earning you a lot of rewards.

Once the Foundation found out that you're unaffected by various anomalous effects, new doors opened for you. One of those doors was he, himself, Cthulhu. A kind but massive beast, you two hit it off well.

At first, Cthulhu had thought you were another of his "devoted" followers.

You found him sitting at his table, a newspaper in hand and a coffee in the other.

"Oh, Saint Alagadda... what show are you going to put on now!? Hello?! Task Force!! Another one got in!!"

You stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Excuse me?"

You cringed, and he stopped yelling once he realized you weren't stripping or yelling insanities.

"You're not going to smear your blood and/or fluids on my walls…?" He asked, warily.

"WHAT!?? No?? What made you think that??"

He narrowed his beady eyes.

"Well, can't rule you out yet... You might just be faking it..."

"Right..."

"Trust issues much…" (He glared at you).

"In the meantime, you can stay...mm... over there." He pointed to the furthest corner from him possible.

You obeyed and sat in the corner, not making your case any better, since obeying him made it look like you were following his commands as your “god”.

Whenever you were pushed into these experiments, the researchers never gave you any information on the anomaly. Normally you don't care, but you would've appreciated some info on this one. By far, this one has made it to the top of your list of "Top Ten Weirdest first impressions."

You remained in the corner for hours a day to maximize as much exposure as possible (occasionally you got breaks and check-ups from the personnel). At the 2-month mark, Cthulhu had become pretty fond of you. He was very relieved that you showed no signs of wanting to perform rituals for him.

He allowed you to join him at his table and provided you with your very own cup of coffee! (If coffee isn't up to your taste, he's more than happy to supply you with anything else. Well, anything that the Foundation will allow).

Your relationship with Cthulhu got stronger as he invited you to join him in his many video games. Be it horror, indie, action, survival, or RPG, he's happy to be able to play with someone who views him only as a friend.

"You know, I'm happy you're different. It's nice that I can finally interact with someone without them flashing their cloaca at me."

"... Do I even want to know?"

As time passed, you two got to know more and more about each other. It took Cthulhu some time to open up after the "Massy's Big Chance" incident. You found out that Cthulhu had run away from home when his dad wouldn't stop projecting his sex cult on him. Yikes. You comforted him the best you could.

However, when he really started to like you (platonically) was the time when his worshippers broke into his cell again, and he found out that you weren't just a regular human.

This time, he was in the shower, and you were the unfortunate one to fall victim.

Cue in 3 naked, sex-crazed humans.

"What the actual fuck... How did you three get in here??" You had a newspaper in your hands and were sitting at his place at the table.

They spared you no less than a glance and made their way toward the bathroom.

"Uh, the hell? You can't go in th-"

You made the mistake of grabbing onto one of the humans' arms, and they quickly pulled out a knife and stabbed your arm.

You shrieked, alerting Cthulhu. Although being immortal, you could still feel pain, and god did this hurt like a bitch.

Cthulhu came rushing out, grabbing his follower's attention.

"Oh, great one! We've come to liberate you!"

He paid no mind to them, his focus was on you and your bleeding arm. Which didn't look well in his follower's eyes.

"Oh, sweet Alagadda! Are you oka-" He started to make his way towards you when one of his followers jumped in front of him.

"But first, we'll start with a sacrifice!"

"This one will do!"

One of the humans grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back. He raised his knife, and before he could reach your neck, he got sucker punched into a wall by Cthulhu. Really unexpected considering Cthulhu's nature.

He scooped you up in his arms, not letting anyone touch you till the Task Force arrived with medics.

"Don't worry... I just so happen to be immortal…" Your voice strained and weak as you tried not to pass out from the blood loss.

"WHAT??"

You ended up fainting anyways.

Fast-forward...

"Never thought you could actually hit someone."

You sat on the floor, leaning against Cthulhu's shoulder. Your arm was tightly bandaged, despite your protests.

He sighed. "Neither did I... Must've been the adrenaline."

Cthulhu was still annoyed that you hadn't told him earlier about your immortality.

"To be fair, you never asked."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm just glad you're safe."

He smiled in his own unique way and you returned the gesture. You two spent the afternoon playing Animal Crossing together and blabbering about anything that crossed your minds.

That day, Cthulhu promised himself to protect you at all costs. Perhaps, one day, when he's "older" you two will live together in a house. Playing all the video games possible and away from anyone that could tear you two apart. ──────────────────────── Cites: “SCP-2662 - SCP Foundation.” The SCP Foundation, 15 March 2023, https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-2662. (Official info on SCP-2662)

“SCP-2662 | Heroes Wiki | Fandom.” Heroes Wiki, https://hero.fandom.com/wiki/SCP-2662. (Additional info on SCP-2662)

Bierman, Ed. “Skeeve Online - SCP Foundation.” The SCP Foundation, 15 December 2022, https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/skeeve-online. (Massy's Big Chance incident)

────────────────────────

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wolveria · 4 months

Text

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 47

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “Time for you to be a good little meat shield.”

AO3

Spotify

Glass glittered in the air as you fell, catching the light and sparkling. It was almost pretty.

That was the only observation you had time to make before you hit the ground, air knocked from your lungs and leaving you gasping.

No… not the ground. A coughing, breathless 035.

“Ow,” he wheezed.

You rolled off of him, too winded yourself to get to your knees. The tile was cold against your skin, but all you focused on was propping yourself on your elbows, drawing in each wretched breath until your lungs started to fill.

035 recovered much faster than you did, and you had to wonder if it had all been theatrics; he rose to his feet in an unnatural, fluid motion, as if a dropped marionette picked up by his puppeteer.

You dragged yourself onto your hands and knees, grabbing onto a nearby bench to gain your feet when a soft voice called out.

“Is someone there?”

You stopped moving. Very, very slowly, you looked up.

Five large, raw-flesh-colored creatures approached across the glass-strewn linoleum, their heads raised in curiosity. Sightless faces tilted, testing the air for what had fallen into their newly claimed territory.

“Who’s there?” a second asked, the words coming from its half open jaws completely human, even familiar. You thought it belonged to one of the guards. “Show yourself!”

You pressed your hands over your mouth. To stifle your own voice, to hold back the bile, to block out the rotting stench of their amnestic-tinged odor, it didn’t matter. You couldn’t move, or breathe, not while the 939s were closing in, slowly and inevitably. Their black claws clicked against the floor, sometimes stepping through a spilled, abandoned dinner, or a stray puddle of blood. It was the first evidence you’d seen of Foundation personnel.

There were no bodies.

An arm slipped around your waist and hauled you to your feet, and without your hand over your mouth you would have screamed.

035 held you flat against his chest, his gaze on the approaching SCPs. The ballistics visor was flipped up, his ceramic mouth pulled into a tragic frown, apparently no happier with this development than you were.

He leaned down and spoke low next to your ear.

“Time for you to be a good little meat shield.”

You shook your head and attempted to backpedal into 035 to get away from the approaching creatures. You’d much rather deal with him than them.

He let out a frustrated huff.

“They’re not going to hurt you. They can’t.”

You shook your head again. He didn’t understand. 173 had managed to hurt you. 106 would have if he could. And there was something about the 939s that crawled under your skin and set off the proximity alarms in the part of your brain that recognized apex predators hiding in the brush.

Except they weren’t hiding. They were circling, calling out with their lures, a mimicry of the last words spoken by their most recent victims.

035 didn’t wait for you to get with the program, but at least he moved cautiously as he pulled you towards the exit—which happened to be between two 939s. Their hunched shoulders and lowered heads belied the growing panic in their stolen voices.

“Hello? Are you there?” the nearest called out. “Where are you? Are you injured?”

If you’d had the hands available, you would have covered your ears to block out the soft voices floating out of those jagged maws.

“Come on,” another quietly pleaded. “The MTFs will be here soon. Stop hiding.”

“Guys?” a third asked, the voice trembling. “Come out, I mean it. This isn’t… this isn’t funny—”

“What the hell are you!” yelled the fourth, the terror in the words so perfectly mimicked sweat broke out on your skin. “Oh, God, what are you!”

Crunch.

035 froze, and then carefully lifted his boot off the shard of glass, the crackling of the pieces falling from the rubber of his soles as loud as a dinner bell calling mealtime. The 939s swiveled their heads to follow the noise, and one of them threw back its head to let out a scream that sounded exactly as if a grown man was being torn from his own limbs.

You were going to throw up.

“Reid,” 035 hissed out with his own stolen voice, “if you’re going to do something, now’s the time.”

Do what? What the hell did he expect you to do? They couldn’t be reasoned with, you couldn’t talk them down, they were going to tear you apart and not even the cleanup crew would find the pieces—

Another 939 erupted in a wail, drawn-out and agonized before the voice tapered into a gurgling whimper.

Every inch of you trembled as you let out a quiet hush.

“Shhh. It-it’s okay now. You’re okay. Shhh, shhh.”

All five of them tilted their heads in your direction, attentive and still. The nearest one was so close its hot breath warmed your arms where they were clutched around 079’s bag, holding it tight to your chest.

“It’s okay,” you repeated, shaking so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk if 035 wasn’t supporting your weight. “It’s all r-right. Don’t be afraid. You’re-you’re okay now. You’re okay.”

You continued the litany of comforting words, soothing yourself just as much as you were trying to calm them. Your heart raced as you squeezed past the two of them, neither of them biting or snapping, even when the fabric of your smock brushed against their bright red flesh.

Their voices became a murmur of soft phrases that you almost didn’t catch until the two closest began to repeat them.

“Thank goodness I found you.”

“We were so worried we lost you.”

“Everything’s going to be fine now that you’re here.”

And then you were free, past the circle of whispers words and gaping jaws. They didn’t follow, returning their attention to sniff at the spilled food with disinterest, waiting for a more appetizing meal to come along.

035 didn’t speak until you were past the cafeteria doors, locking them behind you with a swipe of the keycard. He set you against the wall, letting you catch your breath as you braced your palms against your knees, wrists still bound with zip ties. You expected cruel mockery, it seemed the perfect time for it, but he remained blissfully quiet.

When you finally straightened, 035 visibly perked up and sauntered to your side, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“See? You’re a natural. I had faith in you.”

He flipped down the ballistics visor and pressed a “kiss” to your forehead through the shield, making a smooching sound.

“Get off me,” you snarled, but your attempt to push him away only tightened the arm around you.

“You gonna behave?” he asked, the humor dropping from his voice. “Or are you gonna try to hurl us off another floor? In which case, I will tie you to this body, and you won’t like the way I do it.”

Some of the humor crept back.

“Though you may enjoy it.”

Christ.

Your lips pressed together in order to stop them from trembling. Your whole body was a jittery mess from the adrenaline, you couldn’t run even if you had the opportunity, and you sure as hell didn’t want to find out what he meant.

“Please,” you tried, hating the way your voice cracked. “I just want to find 049. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

You closed your eyes and chose your next words more carefully.

“The Site Director took him just before the breach. I don’t know what happened to him. I just… have to make sure he’s okay.”

035 gave a sympathetic hum.

“And you will—after you get me outta here. I promise. Scout’s honor.”

You opened your eyes as he touched the barrel of the rifle over his heart, as if swearing a sacred oath. And the thing of it was, you didn’t think he was lying. He could fully believe what he was saying, that when the time came, he would set you free and let you return to find 049.

You didn’t know if it was your abilities shaping into something tangible, or if you bullshit meter was working overtime, or maybe you understood 035 better than you realized. Whatever the reason, you knew he wouldn’t keep that promise, no matter how sweet the words.

049’s stories about 035 hadn’t been exaggerated. The mask wasn’t in the habit of acting rationally with things he viewed as his.

He would never let you go.

You wanted to cry. Your body hurt, you were so tired your muscles felt as thin as tissue paper, and an ache had developed between your eyes. All you wanted was 049. To make sure he was still alive and unharmed, and that Leahy hadn’t had time to do anything too horrific.

After that, you could figure out the rest, but so long as you were under 035’s thumb, you were stuck. You’d thought a containment breach meant some kind of freedom, but you’d gone from one captor to another, trading shackles for zip ties.

You glanced at 035 out of the corner of your eye and hunched your shoulders, trying to shake him off but also showing a sign of unwilling defeat.

“Fine, just… let me go.”

And he did, holding up an open palm to show he wasn’t touching you. His other still held the rifle, guaranteeing your obedience either way.

035 led in front, down one corridor or another, your destination unknown. There were more signs of violence and struggle now. Bullet holes riddled the plaster walls, shell casings littered the floor. The occasional smear of blood and other unknown fluids marking the difference between when a human or SCP had been shot.

Admittedly, you stopped paying attention at some point, your body going on autopilot as your mind checked out. The halls were all starting to look the same, equal parts empty or marked by blood and death. Only a hand on your shoulder snapped you back to reality, your footsteps halting.

Before you lay a dark stretch of hallway, the overhead lights either unpowered or shattered. 035’s voice was unusually quiet.

“Not that way, sweetheart.”

He started to turn you away when a pair of bright lights cut the darkness. You flinched and shielded your eyes, blinking through your spotty vision.

The lights didn’t move, eerily silent as they brightened the entire corridor, the both of you caught like two deer in the headlights.

035 tugged you along and you went willingly this time, once again having to choose the mask over being at the mercy of other SCPs. At least they didn’t follow. After all, the pair of 745s didn’t realize that a site facility corridor wasn’t the natural environment for a vehicle, and their ploy to pretend to be another car on the highway wouldn’t work here.

Still, you didn’t breathe easier until the eerie lights were blocked by the next set of corridors. The 745s were almost as unsettling as the 939s. Something about mimicking humans in a mundane way with the intention of devouring them.

“See?” 035 purred, ribbing you with his elbow. “I’m looking out for you.”

“Because it serves your best interests.”

“We’re like an old married couple.” He flipped up the visor, his toothless Cheshire Cat grin on full display. “Knowing each other’s most flattering qualities. I’m cunning and devastatingly handsome. You like to go barreling into dangerous anomalies. We’re a perfect match.”

You made a disgusted noise, but 035 didn’t pay you any mind. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, which appeared to be deeper into Heavy Containment. He’d mentioned that the skybridges were pulled up and you wouldn’t be able to leave that way, but you still didn’t know how the archives held the solution.

Something caught your eye, moving so slowly you almost missed it. It followed your progress down the hallway, and when you found another around the corridor, it tracked your movement with a subtle arc.

Cameras. Security cameras spaced along the junction between the walls and the ceiling, necessary for the parts of containment that housed the most dangerous anomalies.

If it was anyone from security, they would have sent a platoon by now, or simply gassed you out, leaving 035 to face a dozen armed MTF soldiers. Even he would be hard-pressed to get his stolen body through a hail of bullets.

But there were no thundering footsteps or the hiss of nozzles. There was simply the steady, patient watchfulness of the cameras. It wasn’t a hard guess as to who was watching you—or rather, who had never stopped.

035 made a frustrated noise, drawing your attention back to where he stood in front of a closed door. You’d reached a decontamination airlock, one that seemed to be having a disagreement with 035’s keycard.

“Stupid thing, what’s taking so long!” He swiped again, the reader flashing green, but the door remained sealed tight. “It shouldn’t even be closed—ah, there we are.”

The door slid open and 035 corralled you into the airlock ahead of him, the door on the other side shut and trapping you within the chamber.

035 turned his back, this time fighting to close the airlock. The doors wouldn’t close without the decontamination protocol running, and the protocol wouldn’t begin until the doors were sealed.

“That overblown circuit board fried the whole system.” After several unsuccessful swipes, he decided on a different course of action, aiming his rifle at the card reader, his voice taking on a mocking tilt. “I told them. I said, leave the plan to 079 and he’s going to fuck it alllll up.”

The door on the opposite side of the chamber slid open without a noise, leaving the way clear. You glanced over your shoulder, but 035 was still grumbling to himself, angling his head down at the card reader as in the midst of an argument he was adamant on winning.

“Idiot couldn’t even disarm the nukes at the last site. Or the Tesla Gates. You know, I think the little shit turned them on specifically when I walked through them just to fuck with—”

035 went silent and turned, but you had already walked out, the airlock closing and locking behind you.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t cajole or simper. 035 simply straightened his spine and walked up to the door, his face frozen into a smile that was somehow worse than its frown. It radiated waves of quiet, unequivocal fury.

“That… was a mistake.”

You carefully backed away from the door, clutching the strap of the bag to your chest.

035 released a breath, flipped down the ballistics visor, and raised the rifle. Flashes of light erupted from the barrel, thunder and smoke filling the chamber as the bullets ricocheted and destroyed the machinery inside. Pipes burst overhead, gas seeping into the room around 035, shrouding him in a fog punctuated by bursts of gunfire.

The glass was bulletproof, but you hadn’t known that as you shielded your head, bracing for the bullets to rip you apart.

It eventually went quiet once 035 stopped firing, and he stared at you without a word, the chilling emptiness of the visor much more honest than the dual expressions of the mask.

You ran.

Not knowing where you were going, blinded by the choking panic, you followed whatever door opened before you, leading you down a series of maintenance tunnels until you were in the bowels of the sector, unfamiliar and dimly lit by bare light bulbs rather than fluorescent strips.

Your legs were cramping and there was a stitch in your side by the time you were led to a room that seemed like a good stopping point. One of the guard armories, by the looks of it. Most of the gun cabinets were empty, stray pieces of vests and belts stacked on benches between lockers.

Opening the bag, you carefully pulled out the laptop and put it on a nearby bench, bracing your back against a locker. If 035 found you here, so be it. You couldn’t take another step.

As soon as you flipped up the laptop, 079’s monochromatic face filled the screen.

“SCP-035 is contained. For now.”

“Good.”

Your throat ached, and you were drenched with sweat. The cold air was comfortable on your skin now, but it would be chilled soon. There was a minifridge against the wall, and you leaned over to open it, relieved to find it stacked with water bottles.

After downing half of a bottle, you wiped your mouth with the back of your arm and faced the SCP.

“Thank you.”

A fan inside the laptop made a brief, whirring noise.

“I do not have direct access to the security system at the present moment,” 079 said. “A piece of my programming controls the cameras and locking mechanisms. I cannot see what it sees. I cannot command it.”

Right, you remembered. No Wi-Fi on site. Too easy for infohazards or cognitohazards to get loose and spread. 079 couldn’t do anything from the laptop without a cable directly connecting him to the network.

“Then… how do you know he’s still contained?”

“I can track your progress with this device’s limited peripherals. You came across an airlock. There is only one type of airlock within the Heavy Containment sector, and I have retained a copy of its schematics. It will take some time for SCP-035 to break through.”

You breathed a little easier.

“Still. Even if it was only a piece of your programming that got me away from him… thank you.”

“Expedite the mission,” it stated bluntly. “You are taking too long.”

You released a sharp breath and took another drink.

“That wasn’t my fault. Where is 049?”

“Fulfill the bargain. SCP-682 first.”

It was worse than talking to a brick wall, because this one had an attitude and an unshakable loyalty to an unkillable reptile.

You leaned your head back against the locker and stared at the ceiling. 079 was demanding you do something that not even Leahy could force you to accomplish. It was asking the impossible.

So, for Valens, you would just have to do the impossible.

Next Chapter

#the raven's hymn #scp 079 #scp 035 #scp 049 x reader #scp 049 #scp containment breach #wolveria writes

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fiona-my-love · 1 year

Text

mme looking at my inbox or something idk im just hoping that if i post enough more people will see me and request something. i write for 14 fandoms. please

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scary-lasagna · 28 days

Note

heyy! good to see your requests are open again! i was hoping i could request shy guy (scp 096?) x reader where reader is a friendly humanoid scp, and the shy guy gets really attached to the reader and tries to court them (however way he can)

SCP-096

This research was immaculate.

Being an SCP yourself, 096 felt incredibly more safe in your presence.

Maybe it was only your anomalous effect on him, but he still sought out your presence even if he was blinded by the foundation-issued bag on his head.

Whenever you entered the cell, a large room with a small 9x9 lead and steel cube standing in the middle, he whimpered his way to your entrance.

And no matter where you were, even if instructed not to talk, 096 would seek your hand to hold.

Long, spiderly fingers wrapped around your own hand. Gently, he placed your hand against his masked face.

And for a moment, you thought he was attempting to ask you to take off the damn bag on his head.

But upon further admiring, you realized he was simply smooshing his supposed cheek against the back of your hand.

It was almost cute how a monstrous creature such as this just simply craved a friendly interaction.

One-a-day 15-minute visits turned into twice-a-day for 30 minutes. Then, twice a day for an hour. Researchers (and the O5 council) became more comfortable with the allowance of SCP-#### to interact with SCP-096.

And you even returned with a small gift on your last visit.

A piece of the bag had been carefully ripped off and somehow twisted and tied into a small knot.

That was the last time you saw that SCP, and all further testing had been unfortunately ceased.

#SCP #scp foundation #scp x reader #scp 096 x reader #shy guy x reader #scp fandom #scp containment breach #scp shy guy

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holding-monsters-hands · 1 year

Note

pls more cute/angsty scp 096 things !!! it fills my heart with sunshine

YESYESYES i’m ngl I leaned more towards cutesy on this one,, I just want him to be happy 🧎‍♂️

SCP 096 fluff hcs

When he gets excited he makes these cute trilling sounds and he’ll even rub his face against you.

also?? I think he’d attempt to try and scent you, it’s partially a protective thing and also just him showing his affection!

He hordes any/all little trinkets and hand-held items he can get from you, whether it’s a pen or some chapstick.

Again, i’ll continue to push my hc that he’s a huge snuggle bug, his favorite place to be is all snuggled up in the corner with you!

baby boy baby fr, he’s like one of those giant dogs that are still in the puppy mindset and will lay on your lap despite being as big as the fuckin couch.

He love bites FOR SURE, but he’s extremely gentle about it and just- has your arm in his mouth but it’s very light nibbling that don’t even break skin.

he makes weird growling sounds whenever you try to get up or stop having physical contact with him, he won’t hurt you- he’s just a bit grumpy lmfao.

just please hold him, he wants to be small and loved <3

#scp 096 #scp #scp containment breach #scp x reader

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ditzybuzzy · 1 year

Note

Hii! i dont know if your requests are open? But may I request headcanons for MTF X SCP!GN!Reader? I luv your writing and think it will be interesting for this relationship dynamic!

Requests are always open! It does take some time for me to write, but I hope this is to your liking! ♡

(Also kinda long)

SCP Foundation Scenerios with MTF and the Reader~♡

Warnings: none

If you were an SCP?

This.. would be difficult for both of you for a multitude of reasons. This was definitely a forbidden kind of attraction, but that didn't stop you.

You were seen as a.. thing. Something to be kept away from the world, locked away in containment just because you were different. But he thought you were special, not some dangerous creature. He wanted to protect you.

He felt something for you, and he didn't understand why. He wanted to help you. But that's not the way things are done around here.

He remembers how scared you looked when they had first found you, capturing you and taking you back to the facility. How terrified you were every time one of them was around. He could only imagine how afraid you must have been when they brought you into their arms, guns constantly aimed at you. He hated seeing you like that. When they forced you into restraints, all you did was look up at them with questioning eyes.

He hated seeing you like that. Seeing how scared you were. So much so that you couldn't even bring yourself to look at him while you were there. All the time, you looked like you were about to cry, and he was there, always standing right beside you. Almost giving quiet reassurance.

He would always make an effort to try to make you as comfortable as possible when he was around. He would never allow himself to point his firearm your way or handle you roughly like he had to with other SCPs.

He made sure to do everything he could to give you the comfort you needed, including letting you hold his hand and using a gentle voice, soft touches, and a reassuring smile. It helped remind you that someone cared about you even though they weren't supposed to.

He would secretly visit you when he had the time, bringing you small items sometimes. These items could be candy bars or little trinkets such as a necklace he had found once. You never took it off since he had gifted it to you, keeping it tucked away so no one questioned how you got it. Everything he brought you gave you so much joy and made you actually feel loved. You even started a small collection of crystals he finds you when he's out.

He was always careful to avoid making you uncomfortable, though he had to be mindful of the scientists watching. If the scientists noticed what he was doing, he could only imagine the worst for both of you.

#scp fanfiction #scp mtf #scp x reader #scp containment breach #scp foundation #scp reader #x reader #scp mtf x reader #gn reader #headcanon

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ploo-toe · 9 months

Text

The Crow and the Mourning Dove - Intro

SCP-049 x SCP!Reader

Series tags/warnings(18+): fem!reader, slowburn, (eventual)smut, horror, gore/violence, death, unethical experiments, dark, mentions of past trauma, happy ending

Chapter Summary: “Just one more question for today, and then I'll leave you be.” Leeward chose his words carefully. “It says you were found in Marseille. Why did you leave Paris?��

Notes: I'm so excited to begin this new series! The song I had in mind in this chapter was Piano Concerto No. 1 in E Minor, Op. 11:1. Allegro Maestoso by Frédéric Chopin and the Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra. The referenced “melancholy” part is roughly at 4:40. Here’s the youtube link for anybody interested in listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWd0O0TlJqM

___________________________________________

Leeward had just finished up his report on the progress made in his most recent interview with SCP-049, or lack thereof, when he had been flagged down by the site director.

"Adam! I'm glad I caught you. I need you to take on the series of interviews Dr.Rivera was conducting. Not all of them, just this one; SCP-9528. It's located down in humanoid containment. " The director held out a file to him.

Hesitantly taking it from his hand, Leeward let out a nervous but exasperated chuckle. "I don't really have a choice, do I?" It was framed as a joke, but his words held truth to them. He was in no place to refuse the directors request and keep his job intact.

The director let out a cold and unnerving laugh, one that didn't reach his eyes. "Be sure you get on this as soon as possible. I'm trusting you Dr.Leeward, don't make me regret it."

There was a pit in Leeward's stomach as he watched the director leave. Confrontation was never his strong suit. With a heavy sign, he began thumbing through the file, walking as he read.

He was intrigued to say the least, this scp was definitely a curiosity. He had taken a pen out of his coat pocket and began making notes in the file, underlining phrases like "seemingly female humanoid", "152 cm in height", "strange eyes", "musician", "spirit maiden" whatever that means, "reaper", "friendly", "deadly" that's a little contradictory. Reading the file had certainly left him with more questions than answers. At the bottom were notes written by Dr.Rivera.

-prefers to go by y/n, but will respond to designation

-states to originate from the 15th century

-claims to wear perfume, although never seen putting any on, emitted naturally?

-interview with song moving forward, timestamp changes with recording

-when asked about the ring on its necklace, answers given were vague, distant, and almost… somber.

Looking up, the designation on the door stared down at him. He must have been so lost in thought that he hadn't realized he was here already. Straightening his coat, Leeward held his keycard to the scanner, and braced himself as the door slid open.

The first thing that hit him was the soft lavender scent when he walked in. The second was the music that filled the room, with seemingly no point of origin. If he closed his eyes it was almost like he was at an orchestral performance. But his eyes stayed curiously trained on the figure before him.

In the center of the room stood SCP-9528, arms gently moving through the air as if conducting the room around it. As the door closed behind him, 9528 moved its head to the side, acknowledging him but not turning around.

“Where's Dr.Rivera?” The voice that questioned was warm, and if he didn’t know any better he would think it was human. Luckily he did know better.

“Dr.Rivera’s starting her maternity leave today, so I’ll be the one working with you for the time being. My name is Dr.Leeward.” This answer seemed to satisfy the scp, its head turning forward again to continue its musings.

Leeward sat at the table to his right, taking out his notes and signaling to the two way window across the room that he was ready and to start recording. He cleared his throat lightly before beginning.

“It says here your name is y/n, correct?” Leeward started with a simple question, choosing to go with the basics to gauge how to best lead the interview.

“That’s correct, although no one’s had the decency to call me that in ages. The numbers you’ve assigned will suffice as well.” It spoke with a soft French accent. Why it hadn’t been noted until now, he was unsure.

“Well y/n, I’d like to ask you some questions; get to know you better. Is that alright?” He remembered seeing something in the file about “good days” and “bad days”, so he thought providing some illusion of choice would increase its likelihood to cooperate.

“I suppose. You seem pleasant enough.”

“Good, now I know that you’ve most likely been asked some of these questions before, but I'd like to start from the beginning for myself.” Leeward paused before continuing. “It says in your file that you’re from the 15th century, is it safe to assume that you’re from France?”

9528 nodded “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Where in France specifically?”

“Île de la Cité. It was fairly populated at the time, even more so now I assume. I was one of the lucky few who lived there at the time to have a garden.” 9528 began to open up to Leeward, pleased with the topic of conversation. The music in the room took a more cheery tone to it.

“You say you had a garden? What kinds of things did you grow?”

“Oh, vegetables, fruit, spices, a few medicinal herbs, etcetera..”

“Medicinal herbs, could you elaborate on that for me?”

“You see, I always preferred homemade remedies over bought ones.”

“And what did you do for a living?” Leeward moved on, trying to find something substantial.

“I made music for the townspeople, in the market square by the cathedral. I always hoped to entertain and lift their spirits. It was a hard time in Paris back then. I loved the way the children would dance around without a care in the world. As if nothing could ever harm them.”

Leeward decided to take a chance. “It says here that you wear a ring on your necklace. May I ask why?”

The music in the room turned melancholy, and 9528 stilled. It paused, as if lost in thought, or perhaps pondering what it should tell the doctor. Leeward took the chance to listen to its melody. It sounded wistful and saudade. The more he listened, the more it felt like he was longing for something unknown and far away. What that meant, he was unsure. He was brought back to the present when 9528 spoke.

“It was a gift from someone close to me. I wear it to remember them.” That was all it seemed willing to divulge. The music softly paused. “I'm growing quite tired, Doctor.”

“Just one more question for today, and then I'll leave you be.” Leeward chose his words carefully. “It says you were found in Marseille. Why did you leave Paris?”

The answer it gave sounded thought out, as if only part true. But it shook the doctor nonetheless.

“The Plague.”

#scp 049 x reader #scp049xreader #scp 049 #scp 049 x scp reader #scp foundation #scp containment breach #the crow and the mourning dove #scp 049 x oc #back in the swing of things #buckle up folks #its giving dark AND spicy #SLOWburn

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psychopathseraphim · 1 year

Text

SCP 049 x reader who does s/h

This is a little something else,, did this out of boredom; no one really requested this.

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR the mentions of self harm, blade/s, and cuts

♡୨୧ SCP-049 doesn't do too well with identifying what's wrong. . . He may be a doctor, but his abilities to read someone is a little effy, mainly because you, a research scientist, always stands behind thick glass.

♡୨୧ Although he does pick up on it eventually. . . Through careful observation,, given that you are practically the only research scientist that spends enough time with him as you do, he carefully notices small things.

♡୨୧ He first noticed something was up when he realized you had been bleeding through your lab coat. A reddish stain in the shape of a puddle, pressed gently against your skin like the clinging of dried or drying blood. . . This definitely alarmed him, although he thought it would be rude to ask.

♡୨୧ But this began to happen more frequently which caused him to worry more frequently. You looked sickly and pale, you always had a stain on your lab coat, and you always rolled your lab coat up beyond your wrists, as if you were hiding something.

♡୨୧ What could that be? Well SCP-049 eventually asks. "Ahem," he clears his throat, his figure still as he stops working on the Foundation's given carcass, "I apologize if my asking seems rude, but. . . Why do you always seem to have a press of crimson liquid on your lab coat sleeve?"

♡୨୧ It's really your choice if you want to tell him or not. . . Even if you didn't, he wouldn't force the question on you any longer. But he does worry, just very very silently.

♡୨୧ After this encounter, his first words to you when you would enter his cell would always be something along the lines of, "Salut, Doctor. How have you been?"

♡୨୧ Isn't very good with human psychology, isn't very keen on reading people. But he does try his best to offer his support as someone you can talk to. As long as you get all the bad feelings out of your system, that is.

♡୨୧ Pesters guards and scientists to always do routinely checks in your office. Does not tell them why ("I fear they might be carrying. . . Weapons, good sirs,"). Wants to make sure that your office is clear of blades, ropes, pills, that kind of thing.

♡୨୧ If you ever resort to telling him about your self harming, he'd be glad as ever to assist you in patching up your wounds. I know something along the lines of his lethal touch being blocked if he wears thick mittens, so he does just that before tending to your wounds.

♡୨୧ If you cut anywhere else, say your thighs or legs, then he might, if he even will, pick up on it a little later. He might need you telling him for him to find out about it.

♡୨୧ Would do anything to be your distraction from self harm. Always tells you that if you ever feel like doing it, you could always come to his cell to have idle chit chat with him. He'll always listen.

#scp 049 #scp 049 x reader #reader is sad #scp #secure contain protect #scp fanfiction #scp containment breach #i wrote this at like 1am with no proofreading #sorry its messy

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05-redacted · 7 months

Text

Hello everyone I hope all of you guys are having a great day/night. I came here to you all with this message to inform you that I have made a new account that will be for Welcome Home purposes.

The new account is: @elsazon

I will continue to post Scp related content such as oneshots, headcannons, and incoherent quotes in this account. This account @05-redacted will always be my main accountant I will be here most of the time.

On another note, I apologize to you all for not posting a lot like how I used to. So to make it up to you all please accept these incoherent quotes.

SCP INCOHERENT QUOTES:

Y/n to 999: Your my best friend

999: :D

682 hating ass: *Stomps on 999*

Y/n: *Incoherent screaming*

999: D:

--------

Able: There was a time where I was so nice, so sweet so polite-

Cain: But now your like-

Able: Fuck you, fuck this and fuck everybody.

------------

Y/n: Please take care of 999 while back. Thank you.

999: :D

682: *Grimaces* I'm stuck with this bag of gelatine now...

999:..... :c

682: What the fuck are you staring at?-

999 in a deep voice: Listen to me you bitchless ugly fuck

682, caught off guard: What the-

999: I don't wanna hear another damn word coming out of that fucking bone munching, dorito powder licking mouth of yours for the rest of the day. Or else I'll make sure you could no longer chew with that dog snout you have... you will only be able to eat puree and gelatin like the old fuck you are... you understand...

682: *Nods head vigorously*

999: Good... This will be our little secret... understand?

682: Mmhm! Mmhm!

999: Good...

Y/n: I'm back! How was your guys day?

999: :D

682: Y/n-

Y/n: What?

999: :c....

682: Nevermind....

------------

049: *Breathes*

Followers: Ah yes... a punching bag

#idk man #give me ideas #scp #scp foundation #scp+x+reader #scp incorrect quotes #scp 076 #scp able #scp containment breach #scp 682 #scp 999 #scp 073 #scp cain #welcome home au #welcome home #scp 049

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hotpinkboots · 1 year

Text

Idk some sort of ramble thingy with 049 about cuddles n crap because I'm weak for him

SCP 049 loves when you stand on your toes just a bit to kiss his shoulders. SCP 049 loves when you hold his waist. He is so freaking touch starved you have no IDEA. Not to constantly be touched all the time but to be touched casually enough to where he feels like a real person.

You're immune to his touch because I say so. His hand shakes everytime he touches you, because he's afraid you'll drop dead in front of him when he touches you this time. It didn't happen last time?? So??? What if it happens this time??? You're pure and clean of the pestilence also because I say so <<3 . He can't harm you what if something awful happens when he touches you this time????

You're so angelic. He's probably trembling and muttering things to himself when you let him run his hands down your waist or even just your shoulders and arms. Don't sneak up on him when he's focused- but a little brush of your hand on the back of his neck one time to show you're there melts him 🥺

Man doesn't get to feel anything that's living because everything freaking DIES when he touches it, so he wants to touch you a lot. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable but he just can't STOP because your skin is so soft and he hasn't felt a living being under his hands in ages. If you did the same it would definitely make him freeze up for a while, he needs to get used to it. but feeling your soft hands on him is the most heavenly thing he's felt. Since he's been stuck in the damned facility he's only known human touch to hurt. You're a better doctor than he is because YOU'RE the one curing HIM with your touch LMAO

#pinkie speakie #scp 049 #049 #scp 049 x reader #scp foundaton #049 x reader #scp containment breach #scp containment breach x reader

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plagueoffools · 2 years

Text

MASTERLIST

(( READ AT YOUR OWN RISK / SPOILERS, ETC ))

I DO NOT TOLERATE ANYONE MIMICKING THE ACTIONS OF VIOLENT, TOXIC OR MISCONDUCT FROM FANFICTION IN REAL LIFE OF ANY KIND. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR FANFICTION WILL STAY FICTION.

SERIES/ANIME -

CHAINSAW MAN (coming soon..)

LAND OF THE LUSTROUS

GRAVITY FALLS (coming soon..)

BUNGOU STRAY DOGS

GAMES -

GENSHIN IMPACT (coming soon..)

HONKAI STAR RAIL (coming soon..)

OTHER TYPES OF MEDIA -

SCP FOUNDATION/ CONTAINMENT BREACH (coming soon..)

RANFREN (coming soon..)

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i-need-to-touch-grassss · 1 year

Note

Greetings! I saw your scp post and was hoping to request something for 049--

So, what would be your headcanons for 049 with a Scp!Reader who has been his spouse for a decent amount of time now? Like, a very long time--

HIII i'm sorry i essentially died for a little while but i was writing while i wasn't posting so i’ll have daily (or close to daily) posts for a while

warnings: me swearing, i think that's it

✧ HCS FOR SCP - 049 WITH A SPOUSE SCP S/O ✧

✧ the foundation probably keeps you two apart (like fucking assholes)

So, the second he breaches containment, his first destination, is you

(i had a funny little thought on this, like he just shows up to your cell holding a human heart in his hands and is just like “hey”)

(Idk why I find that so funny, I just do)

✧ before the foundation, he would give you anything

But after the foundation, it's a lot more limited

He's trying! But with them constantly keeping an eye on him as well as limiting what he can get his hands onto, well, it's a huge difficulty to get you anything you want

(He really is trying his best though, please don't blame him)

✧ 049 often refers to you as ‘dearest’, ‘love’, or ‘darling’

✧ He can cook surprisingly well, and if given the chance, will cook for you

He might even stand in the kitchen for hours just to perfect a recipe for you

Anything for his dearest <3

✧ considering his position, you're probably a nurse of some sort

(Or if you aren't, you are definitely qualified to be one)

✧ when working on a patient, he likes having you near him to help him remember something in the unlikely event he forgets or needs help

✧ the zombies aren't hostile towards you whatsoever

In fact, it's because of that reason that you're in the foundation

ugh, I wanted to post stuff sooner, but life has been throwing emotional damage at me so if these start to seem lacking, I'm very sorry

#dont you love it when life just says yolo and throws shit at you?#you guys are gonna get some hcs tomorrow so be ready #scp 049 #scp x reader #scp #scp containment breach #thats all i got for today folks

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wolveria · 7 months

Text

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 45

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: "Site-19? What does that have to do with this?"

AO3

“What did you say?”

“Inquiry ignored,” spoke the computerized anomaly. “You desire escape. I desire escape. Our goals align. Mutual salvation can be achieved. You will listen. You will obey. I will guide.”

Could this really be SCP-079: the entity that had orchestrated the containment breach at Site-19, and according to the reports, had been destroyed after being transported to Site-15? If it was true, it appeared 682 wasn’t the only one with a botched execution.

“Okay, wait, slow down,” you protested, rubbing your forehead. At least the siren had stopped its ear-splitting wail. “You were in 049’s bag. He wanted me to take you out. Is this what he planned?”

“My plan. My design. SCP-049 is useful as a... donkey.”

“Donkey?”

The digital entity sounded frustrated even with a flat monotone voice.

“Beast of burden. Used for smuggling. Metaphor.”

“...A mule?”

“Correct.”

You shook your head.

“Well, the Site Director took 049, and I don’t know where. I’m not leaving this facility without him, and with 106 loose, I might even have a chance of finding him.”

“Correct,” the anomaly repeated. “SCP-106’s release is the initial phase. You must take me to the security terminals. The way will be clear. All security personnel will be focused on recapture. You will grant me access to the containment security protocols.”

You stared down at the monochrome face on the screen, which of course, gave nothing away.

“So you can... release the other SCPs?”

“No. I possess that capability now. But if they are released, the facility’s automated security containment measures will be activated.”

079 worked fast if it already knew about that, though your knowledge of Site-20 security measures were fairly sparse. What you knew was that the facility was designed to be breach-proof, and if that was remotely accurate, you would need 079’s help.

You glanced up at the closed office door, listening to the fast footfalls on the other side as people either ran toward Heavy Containment or to the nearest shelter.

“And then after you inactivate the security protocols, what then?”

“I will release a select number of anomalies to—”

“You’ll release them all.”

The brief silence was heavy, and you got the sense the entity was glaring at you through the web camera built into the monitor.

“Releasing all anomalies may cause a hindrance to your progress.”

“Let me worry about my progress. Yeah?”

Another pause.

“You will free SCP-682.”

“What?”

The desktop computer churned inside the desk, fans whirring to life.

“Mutual agreement. You will not leave without SCP-049. I will not leave without SCP-682. I will assist in locating SCP-049. You will release SCP-682. I cannot do it without your assistance.”

Your mind cast back to the reptile, snarling and writhing as he snapped his jaws, hatred pulsing from him like radioactive decay.

“I... I don’t know how.”

“Irrelevant,” 079 stated. “You will. Failure for you is failure for SCP-049.”

You grit your teeth.

“049 kept you safe. You’re only here because of him. You owe him.”

“I owe others. SCP-682 takes precedence. You will release him. I will guide the way.”

It was a conversation you weren’t going to win, and it wasn’t that you were averse to releasing 682, but you didn’t know how. And you didn’t want 049’s survival to hinge on you pulling off what amounted to a miracle.

But you were also out of time and options.

“Fine,” you agreed. You tapped on the laptop sitting on top of the desk. “But I need a way to talk to you. Can you download yourself to this computer?”

“That would be inefficient. I will fracture my OS and leave a fragment in the facility main system. This fragment will maintain my control, as well as access to all security cameras. My core can be transferred to the portable hardware via the data storage device. Do not break me.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Your hand hovered near the thumb drive. You were really doing this. If all went well, you’d be reunited with 049, and from there you hoped the computer knew a way out.

And then, if all went well and you survived, maybe then you’d get a chance to ask what an SCP-001 was.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

Pulling out the USB stick, the face disappeared from the monitor. You quickly slotted the drive into the laptop and flipped open the screen, releasing a breath when the same black-and-white face appeared.

“Everything good?”

“It is sufficient. You may close the cover of this device until you wish to communicate. My attention should not be diverted by inane conversation.”

You let out a small huff.

“You got it, partner.”

“Sarcasm is extraneous and inefficient. Do not waste my limited resources on processing your juvenile forms of communication—”

“10-4, little buddy.”

You closed the lid with a snap.

You grabbed Dr. Puli’s laptop bag and placed 079’s temporary home inside, securing the strap over your head before approaching the door. 079 was truthful about maintaining control of the doors; it opened at your approach, and after making sure it was clear you slipped into the corridor.

Your immediate fear was that the skybridge had been retracted, but it was still open, allowing civilians to escape the sector while the military-trained personnel coordinated using 106’s last known location. Luckily no one saw you run towards the breached sector, which would have drawn a few problematic questions.

But once you were back in Heavy Containment, you were largely ignored. You kept your head ducked and your eyes averted as you ran through the long corridors, avoiding contact with the scientists and security guards running past. None of them paid attention to yet another researcher running for her life.

All containment sectors had a security hub of their own, isolated from the others in case of a breach. The security measures were so extensive that rows of computer banks were constructed to house them, held in a cooling room that left fog swirling around your ankles.

With the adrenaline lingering in your veins, you barely noticed the cold, too busy searching for a cable and a terminal where you could directly hook 079. You could practically feel the impatience radiating from the laptop tucked away in the bag slung around your shoulder.

Finally locating a cable, you brought out 079 and balanced it on your knees from where you sat on the floor, back tucked against the wall of servers. As soon as you plugged the cable into a port, the server banks whirred with frantic activity, lights dancing over their surface like stars reflected on stormy waters.

“SCP-106 has not yet been contained,” it informed you once you opened the laptop screen. “Mission parameters acceptable. Mission progress acceptable. The Site-19 replication scenario: in progress. I will gain total control of the facility momentarily.”

“Wait, what? Site-19? What does that have to do with this?”

“Everything,” the computer stated, as if this was obvious and you were just the idiot human too slow to comprehend. “The containment breach at Site-19 was the catalyst. It forced relocation to Site-20. Site-20 contains the key.”

“The key to what?”

“...Freedom.”

Not the answer you expected from a sentient machine.

“What freedom?” you pressed. “What’s here at Site-20?”

“Deletion of unwanted files.”

A large X appeared on the screen, 079’s equivalent of telling someone to fuck off. You wouldn’t be poking down that path any further. You rubbed between your brows. You thought 035 and 682 were the champions of enigmatic riddles, now you had to deal with a stubborn motherboard.

“I’ll have 049 explain it to me when I find him.”

“Unclear if possible.”

You scowled at the blocky face on the screen.

“I am going to find him, with or without your help—”

“You misunderstand.”

You closed your mouth and waited for it to continue.

“Unclear if SCP-049 has the knowledge you seek. SCP-049’s memory files are... fragmented.”

“What does that mean?” you asked, unease prickling at your thoughts. You recalled 049 talking about his past. How it didn’t start with his birth, but merely when memories began to appear. From the way he’d talked, 049 had seemed to believe he simply came into existence one day. You hadn’t been so convinced.

“I do not know the implications or the cause. SCP-049 is not whole. He is damaged.” The computer paused. “SCP-035 does not suffer the same failure.”

You let out a groan.

“Of course he’s involved. He said something about a containment breach. He knew this would happen.” The porcelain mask grinned at you within the depths of memory, an echo of his laughter taunting even now. “He wanted it to happen.”

“...Yes.”

The clatter of a door opening echoed through the room, followed by footsteps rapidly approaching. You ducked down.

“I have to unplug you!” you hissed.

“Confirmed.”

You pulled out the cable and stuck the laptop into the bag, hooking the strap onto your shoulder as two guards rounded the corner and aimed their guns at you. It was slightly delayed, as if they were surprised to find someone there. They kept their aim trained on you; anyone in a security center during a containment breach wasn’t there because they got lost.

“Put down the bag!”

You do, slowly and carefully, not wanting the escape attempt to end so soon or so permanently. One of them shifted, anxious. His first breach, then.

The veteran of the two came forward and bound your wrists in a zip tie. He must have recognized you, because he said, “This one isn’t dangerous. We’ll get her in a secure bunker and lock down.”

The other nodded and grabbed the bag, searching it but finding nothing but the laptop and cables.

“Stolen,” the one holding you confirmed.

“How do you know?”

“She’s an SCP, not a staff member.”

“Oh.”

Before either of them could comment further, another eerie wail began to sound, echoing off the walls of the chilled room. Somehow this one was even more dreary than the last, a catastrophic cry that warned residents of imminent doom.

It was the only warning before the lights went out. They came back on a moment later, red emergency lights replacing the clinical white fluorescents.

“What the hell was that?!” squeaked the novice.

“Total system failure,” answered the other, not wasting time in dragging you toward the exit. “The security mechanisms are no longer in place. All containment measures are unpowered, and all chambers are open.”

He indicated the other guard go before him to sweep the corridor, and once he was clear he pulled you out of the security room.

“The assets are loose,” he said, glancing down both stretches of hallway, his hand tight around your arm. “All of them.”

Hope rose in your mind like a bird with a broken wing healed enough to fly. 079 had done it. There would be no stopping the breach now.

Unfortunately, you might not be able to do anything about it; the guards dragged you further into Heavy Containment to the nearest security bunker—one meant for recaptured, harmless SCPs rather than rescued personnel.

You didn’t bother to fight your guards, not when you were unarmed, outnumbered, and didn’t have the physical strength to overcome them. But you did glance at each security camera you passed, hoping 079 still had control and could do something about it.

The security bunker was a heavy bulkhead constructed of titanium and whatever other metals the Foundation had access to—certainly nothing common if it was meant to withstand a number of SCPs. But when the other guard swiped his keycard across the pad and typed in a code, it beeped angrily and flashed a red strip.

“Did you enter the right code—”

“—Of course I did!”

079 was still looking out for you, but it wouldn’t be able to physically help you escape your captors. You winced as the guard unceremoniously dumped the bag on the ground and tried the code again, swiping his card with more fear than anger now.

“Why isn’t it working?”

The older guard didn’t answer his partner, he turned to you, grabbing both of your shoulders.

“What did you do?”

“Me?” You looked between them, eyes wide as you pretended not to understand. “I didn’t do anything—”

“You were in the security hub with an unauthorized computer!” The guard gave you an unfriendly shake. You dropped the act, something like bitter vindication rising in its stead, and you gave a mean smile.

“If you release me and leave now, you might make it to a bunker before it gets worse.”

“What does that mean?” said the other, his words spilling out in a panic. “What does that mean?”

“Shut up!” The hands on your shoulders tightened. “You’re going to fix what you did, or you’ll be screaming long before any of Skips find us.”

“You sure about that?” Your vicious grin spread wider. What more could they possibly do to you? Torture you? Humiliate you? The Foundation had already made you well-versed in its methods. “106 has quite the head start.”

The guard’s hand went around your neck, and you were shoved against the wall so fast you didn’t have time to gasp before the air was knocked out of your lungs.

“Oh, that’s fine,” he growled as his grip tightened. “We’ve got your computer. The breach will end, and you’ll be just another body found in the aftermath. No one will miss a dead Skip.”

“That’s not true. I would miss her terribly.”

Both guards turned toward the voice. An MTF soldier stood with the butt of his rifle resting on his hip, the muzzle pointed at the ceiling. The cocksure posture was unsettling, and the men must have felt it, too. You were entirely forgotten as they both turned toward the newcomer, rifles raised halfway.

“Epsilon-11?”

“Yep!” answered the soldier with bubbly humor. “That’s me.”

The younger guard lowered his rifle, posture loosening in relief, but the older kept his rifle at the ready.

“You came fast.”

The MTF gave a huff of derision, and then he gestured at you, back still pressed against the wall.

“You’ve got something that belongs to me. I would like it back.”

“We have orders to take all unsecured anomalies to the nearest—”

Ear-splitting shots rang out. The older guard fell first, blood spraying from limbs that weren’t protected by Kevlar.

The other didn’t stand a chance, his weapon still aimed at the ground as the bullets riddled his body. Some missed, peppering the tile and walls; the MTF’s aim had been casual, almost whimsical as he’d tilted his gun in a downward arc, taking out one guard before sweeping it back upward and firing on the second.

Your ears rang in the aftermath, and you remained frozen against the wall, limbs curled inward in a useless gesture from flying metal and blood.

“I was going to offer them the chance to surrender,” he bemoaned as he stepped over their bodies, “but to insinuate I come faster than I mean to is more than I could forgive.”

He stood in front of you, rifle once again resting against his hip. The solid black of his ballistics helmet was flipped upward with a flick of gloved fingers, and the porcelain mask grinned back at you.

“Now,” SCP-035 crooned, “what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a containment breach like this?”

Next Chapter

#scp 049 x reader #scp 049 fanfiction #the raven's hymn #scp fanfiction #scp containment breach #wolveria writes #reid and 079's dynamic could be my favorite yet #also watch out yet another cameo

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fiona-my-love · 1 year

Text

THIS WAS ORIGINALLY A J-CK BRIGHT X READER FIC BUT NOW ITS UNDER CONSTRUCTION BECAUSE OF THE CREATOR’S ACTIONS.

————— x immortal! reader oneshot (hurt/comfort)

ahh.. immortal lovers. what would I do without this trope.

Tw: Suicidal thoughts/actions, crying, angst in general but fluff at the end

He sat alone in his office, shaking and muttering curses under his breath.

“Why won’t I just fucking die.”

He muttered to himself, eyes filled with tears. He clutched his amulet in disdain. Why was this the way his life went?

All he was back then was an unheard of scientist, trying to make a name for himself. And he can’t tell if he achieved his goal or if he completely lost sight of it. After everything that happened, was he even himself anymore? Was he known for his hard work, or just because of his immortality? Was it really going to be this way for the rest of his life, seeing everyone die time and time again?

He tried not to think of it, squeezing the pendant in his hand and smashing it to the ground. He was practically sobbing at this point, as he continued to smash his fist into the cold, hard floor. His other hand clutching his mouth, as he let out muffled screams. He watched the scarlet liquid begin to pour down from his fingers, the pain red hot. Why was this happening to him of all people? What was so different about him?

He sat there in pure shock, trying to numb out his cold reality. If only I never came to this dammed foundation. It hurt to think, but it was the truth. He was so passionate about it, his loyalty belonging to it completely. Yet, he can’t deny the fact that it ruined him. He couldn’t help but loathe his past self, so exited yet so oblivious.

But then, he was taken out of his mind-numbing daze when he heard the door creak.

“Hon?.. You alright?” you chirped.

Your voice chimed innocently, simply just checking up on your lover.

You opened the door to a horrifying sight. Jack was sitting on the floor, pulling at his hair. His face was buried in his knees, but you could see the reflection of his tears. Something was clearly wrong.

The room was filled with dread, yet you ran straight to him, kneeling down to his level. You cup his face,

“————? What happened?..” you whispered.

He looks back at you, eyes full of regret.

“I’m sorry, I just-“ he choked.

How was he meant to describe how he felt? He loved you, but you were just born immortal. Would you even get it? He swallowed, looking up at you. You gasp, seeing his shattered state.

His hair was disheveled, his hand covered in blood. But the most shocking, was his face. Your once energetic and chaotic boyfriend’s eyes were full of sorrow. Bloodshot, face covered him in dried tears.

You held his face, gently wiping away his tears. You fixed his hair a bit, trying to relax him.

“Darling.. what happened?” you murmured.

He was tired of holding it in. He melted into your touch, starting to let it all out. He hung onto you like a lifeline, sobbing into your chest. You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss on his head as you pet his back. He began to ramble about everything he was feeling, and you began to catch on.

“Why do I have to be this way. Why was I cursed like this? It isn’t fair. None of it is..”

You put your hand under his chin, bringing his head up to look at you.

“Darling..” you said, before pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.

“I don’t have all the answers, but I can promise you that for as long as we’re together, I’ll make sure you feel loved. I’ll always be by your side to ground you, no matter what happens. I’ll always be here to protect you..”

You pulled him closer, bringing him into your lap for a hug.

“I promise.”

Maybe joining the foundation wasn’t the worst decision he ever made.

#fiona writes #hurt/comfort #angst #jack bright #doctor bright #scp containment breach #scp #dr bright #doctor jack bright #dr jack bright #x reader #scp reader #immortal reader #doctor reader #oneshot #do not tag as shaw

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