#scp containment breach protocol

[doctorslippery]

Waffle Squarf is on the SCP Foundation's radar, aren't they? Cause there are those who eat there once and never return...yet, and there are those who go there every day, sometimes twice a day, sometimes never leave. Come...come to the Squarf!

[therightrighthand]

SCP-8883

SCP-8883 // Ketter Class / Containment Breach // ZK-Class Reality Failure Scenario // 'Goldchild' Protocall in effect

--------

"Greetings, my name is Doctor ██████ from the ███ ██████ ██ department of the SCP Foundation, universe designation ██ ████ ███ ███ ███.

If you have received this documentation, it means SCP-████ has successfully entered your reality to deliver this message to an SCP Foundation member or an organisation of a similar kind. I guess, greetings from across the multiverse [Chuckle] ... anyway.

Sadly, this message is not one of the good tidings but a warning of an anomaly we have designated in our universe as SCP-8883, which has developed as a potential Keter Class threat (Uncontainable depending on your classification system) or invoked a ZK-Class Scenario (Reality has broken down and our end is imminent).

In the event this does happen, we have enacted the 'Godchild protocol', where we reach out to known neighbouring universes that have a high probability of having their own SCP-8883. The goal is to share our findings and research on SCP-8883 so that you may be ready for the coming threat.

If it happens, I mean. This documentation is merely a precaution for something that hasn't even happened yet, so it may just be a waste of time-" [REDACTED] "This documentation will come in two parts, Pre and Post ZK-Class Scenario so there is ample time to properly per pair our findings before it might be 'too late'.

PRE - ZK

"SCP-8883 is a young female girl, (as of █████) around 25 years old, though her age and identity may vary. There is nothing overly anomalous about SCP-8883. In her un-interfered state, she is just a normal human. What allocates her as an anomalous SCP is that she will one day become god, or a god, so to speak. We discovered this during a fact-finding mission with SCP-████ that uncovered this supposed proficy they referred to as the 'Sirpyn Paradox'. It is believed that SCP-8883 will, in some nondescript way, develop into an entity so strong it cannot reside within the walls of reality.

The details on how or when this happened were not provided, but we believed her to be relatively safe. What drew our attention was our attempt to apprehend SCP-8883, and various anomalies interfered with the process. There were 15 attempts to bring her in, and over 48 recorded anomalies one could describe as 'godly intervention'. Flat tyres, floods, lottery wins, sickness, pregnancy, even a meteor destroying a highway. To many around SCP-8883 to be a coincidence.

It's at this point we humoured the theory (now proven) that their future god-self (designated SCP-8883-B) is manipulating fate to stop our efforts. Interestingly, this has only ever been the case in regard to capture; we've never been stopped when our operatives have engaged with SCP-8883 undercover just to 'talk'. We surmised that direct capture of SCP-8883 was in conflict with their 'fate', leading them to become SCP-8883-B, so they intervened. Meaning we had to get creative.

In the end, we had to use SCP-████ to create models, based on the probability, to predict a course of action that would allow us to secure SCP-8883 that would not interfere with their fate. This presented us with an interesting possibility, how much can SCP-8883-B intervene, and how far can we force their intervention?

With the approval of ██████ we orchestrated a series of tests. The first test gave us obvious results, harmless intervention, but by using the probability modules, we were able to, in a sense, corner SCP-8883's fate to a full manifestation of SCP-8883-B and aggressive confrontation. The only visual confirmation we can conform from SCP-8883-B, which hasn't led to an immediate brain aneurysm, is a close likeness to SCP-8883 in shape and form, with a face covered in shadow and piercing green eyes.

With this discovery, we're putting together a proposal to utilise this incredible opportunity. We have the power of a god-level SCP at our disposal, one who is inert and who we can contain and control through predictive model data. If their abilities is as strong as we believe it is, we can use SCP-8883 to destroy other SCP threats.

It's all very exciting!"

POST - ZK

"Mother of god ... what have we done ... W-what have I done ... I hope there are enough analogies about playing god- or tempting fate in your universe ... clearly there wasn't enough in ours" [REDACTED]

"As theorised ... SCP-8883 has been elevated to a Ketter Class SCP, a ZK-Scenario is in effect, and Protocol Godchild has been initiated... I only wish I had more time to better compose myself ... or even amend my last fucking entry- I.... fuck. god I can't" [REDACTED]

"As I mentioned at the start of this documentation, the Godchild Protocol has come into effect and you have received this warning that SCP-8883 has caused a Reality Failure Scenario.

Before I carry on... whoever you are, you must stop this recording IMMEDIATELY and escalate this to the highest level of Authority. If you are part of a SCP Foundation, then this must be taken to The Administrator, or at the very least, The Council... otherwise, you pose a risk not only to your own life but to your universe's too"

"........................................"

"Ok ... if I am talking directly to who I think I am ... kill the person who handed you this documentation, them, and anyone who has any knowledge of this information being passed to you. As we speak, my reality is falling apart because of the information in this document. Whilst we could not contain SCP-8883 we could prevent it, by Leaving. Her. Alone. By knowing someone's fate, you risk intervening with it, and intervened with Del- erm, SCP-8883's fate led to our demise.... I ask- no, BEG you, destroy this documentation, stop the recording now and erase everything. Let them live their lives untested and let fate take its course...

"........................................"

"If you're still listening ... I hope you know what you're doing and the risks with this information. Know, I'm only sharing this to appease curiosity, so you do not give into the same temptation we-.... I did...

After discovering we could control SCP-8883-B's focus, we began to escalate our testing to harvest residual energy created by SCP-8883-B and eventually use them as a weapon. We found we could manipulate SCP-8883-B to destroy other SCP's. I'm not going to list each SCP, but- we had a 100% success rate, and we were able to remove over 80% of our most hostile SCPs. They were everything we ever wanted. And with SCP-████ models the risk was next to 0.

However...

SCP-████ was unable to account for a variable we had no measurement for. Put my fucking trust in that AI-" [REDACTED] "It seemed that every time we coached SCP-8883-B into acting on our behalf, we frayed the fabric of time and space ... like running a blade across a rope, slowly eroding its threads until it eventually snapped.

That's when everything fell apart and SCP-8883 entered a ... I don't know what to call it, demi-god state? A defense mechanism? Whatever- SCP-8883-C, let's just call it that... We've tried to capture as much footage as we could, but we lost every power station across the globe the second shit hit the fan. Any and all attempts to stop SCP-8883-C were met with the same effect, immediate destruction on a cellular level. We don't even have any SCPs to throw at it to slow her down ... But that's only the tip of the iceberg, as SCP-8883-C has weaponised SCP-8883-B against us in a form we've not seen before ... some sort of giant lizard entity the size of manhattan... Apparently, you can see it's destructive trail from space...

The crippling blow wasn't the girl or her knock-off Godzilla, but the sheer power emitting from the two of them that began to tear space and time apart. Past and future are starting to crumble into one another as SCP-8883-C's slow destructive path seems to be echoed simultaneously in every moment in time, all at once.

The effects are ... indescribable ... yesterday I shared a cup of tea with my grandfather, who's been dead for 8 years ... and an hour ago, I rang up my grandson and told him I loved him ... I don't even have a family- or I won't yet , or ... ever will? ... and then there are parts of time that have been completely eviscerated... members of staff have even began to forget their names...

Everything is falling apart...

Now the responsibility lies on your shoulders. You must carry on the Godchild protocol. Not only do I know there is an SCP-8883 in your universe, but in every conceivable universe. The Sirpyn Paradox isn't just a rare freak anomaly, it is a FACT. And if it cannot be contained or destroyed, then it must be maintained...

Gods speed..."

[MESSAGE END]

-------- The winner of this month's Del-veres vote! SCP Foundation Del! I was really looking forward to seeing how this could work because I figure the SCP Foundation would be the only group able to contain/utilise the Sirpyn Paradox, or their universe's Del. Or at least for so long

-- Follow my socials and art discord on my Link.tree Do not use, repost or claim (rp) my art/character Art © @The-Red-Right-Hand

[tomatosamla]

Sooooo.... this is my SCP OC, I don't know if anyone would be interested, but 🫠

I have ✨️anxiety✨️, so I won't post it to the wiki (yet... maybe, IDK), but like... enjoy!

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

Item #: SCP-9070

Object Class: Thaumiel (Conditional) / Keter (Contingency)

Special Containment Procedures:

Due to SCP-9070's critical relevance to multiple SK-Class End-of-the-World scenarios, containment procedures are divided into two operational levels:

Operational Status (Dormant):

SCP-9070 is to be maintained in Secure Humanoid Containment Suite-04 at Site-17 under care of Containment Liaison Dr. Amelia Barker. Psychological stabilization efforts are to prioritize cooperative maintenance of SCP-9070’s emotional well-being.

Direct access to SCP-9070 is restricted to Level 4/9070 personnel, with provisional access granted to O5 Command under unanimous consensus.

Operational Status (Active Deployment Authorization):

Deployment of SCP-9070 under the Keystone Protocol requires approval from no fewer than 8 O5 Council members and Ethics Committee Executive Council oversight.

Deployment is authorized exclusively in the event of confirmed irreversible SK-Class Dominance Shift, Reality Collapse, or existential destabilization events where no alternative containment protocols remain viable.

Any attempt to replicate, modify, or genetically analyze SCP-9070 outside of authorized protocols is to be considered a containment breach of the highest order.

Description:

SCP-9070 is a biologically-engineered human female (chronological age: 10; physical development consistent with baseline parameters), designed through experimental recombinant processes conducted under former Project KEYSTONE directive.

At baseline observation, SCP-9070 exhibits no overt anomalous properties or detectable extranormal emissions. However, SCP-9070 possesses an unprecedented, active form of universal anomaly suppression, herein designated "Reality Synchronization Field" (RSF-9070). Within a localized spherical radius (variable, typically ranging 5–20 meters under resting conditions), SCP-9070 actively negates, disables, or outright nullifies the functioning of extranormal phenomena, including but not limited to:

• High Hume fluctuations (Type Green, Type Black anomalies)

• Non-Euclidean geometry

• Dimensional instability

• Entity-based anomalous aggression triggers (ex. SCP-096 visual triggers, SCP-106 localized corruption fields)

• Biological augmentation agents

• Memetic/antimemetic alterations

• Reality-bending effects produced by both artificial and biological anomalous objects

The Reality Synchronization Field is not consciously controlled by SCP-9070, but responds autonomously to perceived threats or environmental instability. Prolonged exposure to overwhelming extranormal stimuli can forcibly expand or intensify the RSF, sometimes resulting in uncontrolled area-wide anomaly suppression events (see Incident 9070-Delta-03: West Coast Event).

Repeated exposure to complex anomaly interaction suggests SCP-9070’s abilities may not solely operate through neutralization, but through an unknown form of structural “reassertion” of baseline reality. Genetic analysis has failed to identify any one factor responsible for SCP-9070’s properties; attempts to extract or reproduce RSF capacity in vitro have universally failed.

Origin:

SCP-9070 originated from now-defunct Project KEYSTONE, a black-level experimental contingency program operated under direct supervision of O5-6 between 1996 and 2016. Original program objectives, as authorized by O5-6, were intended to create a biological countermeasure against uncontrolled anomalous escalation, specifically tailored to mitigate projected SK-Class scenarios.

Genetic sampling utilized unauthorized genomic material extracted from multiple Foundation researchers and field operatives. Among primary contributing sources was Dr. Alto Clef (designated “Donor Alpha”), whose recovered genetic material displayed increased resilience to reality-affecting anomalies. However, genomic contributions from no fewer than 11 additional personnel have been identified in SCP-9070’s structure, with extensive artificial modification applied via early-stage embryonic genome engineering.

Project KEYSTONE was terminated prematurely following internal investigation by the Ethics Committee in 2015. However, SCP-9070’s biological development had already reached critical stabilization phase at the time of project dissolution. Unauthorized extraction of SCP-9070 was carried out shortly after by Agent Amelia Barker (Alpha-1), in conjunction with Project KEYSTONE lead Dr. Elija Marquez.

SCP-9070 remained outside Foundation custody for approximately five years prior to eventual rediscovery and recontainment.

Operational Application: "Keystone Protocol"

SCP-9070 was designed for singular use as a last-resort failsafe. Projections indicated that in the event of SK-Class global collapse events, existing containment measures may no longer be viable. In such circumstances, SCP-9070 would serve as a mobile stabilization anchor, deployed to nullify high-risk anomalies or zones experiencing destabilization cascades.

Due to SCP-9070’s metabolic strain and neurological feedback during active suppression, full-scale deployment has not been tested outside controlled conditions. Ethical ramifications regarding deployment remain under active review.

Current Status:

Active containment continues. Deployment remains unauthorized.

SCP-9070 remains under psychological care, maintained within familiar care structure to prevent destabilization of baseline affect. Ongoing supervision by Dr. Amelia Barker, Dr. Alto Clef, and Dr. Elija Marquez continues under provisional family-based containment directive approved by O5 Council (6-5 vote).

[site-farros]

SCP Site 34: Site Farros

SCP Site 34, Site Farros, sometimes derogatorily referred to as Site Eros, is an Ancillary SCP Site housing low-threat SCP subjects, known for its critical lack of funding or attention from the foundation as a whole and its all female staff. The SCPs housed within usually have a comical or lewd theming, sometimes both, and give their researchers no end of grief studying them.

Site Personnel:

Site Director Dr. Setsuna Makashi, an all-around gifted woman with a nasty penchant for laziness and apathy that landed her in this position in the first place. She is quite skilled at what she does but has an uncharacteristically carefree attitude for an SCP researchers, though she is also uncharacteristically empathetic for a Foundation researcher in return. It is rumored that several Containment Breaches at her previous sites traced back to her or presumed to be her doing got her demoted to running the circus that is Site Farros.

Testing Head: Dr. Michiru Oniwara, an apathetic and clinical woman, very good at doing things by the book. Despite her eccentricities she will always keep a straight face even when declaring the wildest results or asserting the boldest opinions. She has a rather extensive personal hobby of photography and will try to get other researchers to model scandalous outfits in her off-hours.

Security Head Captian Beth Vergo, head of Mobile Task Force: Stripes. A no-nonsense woman constantly perplexed by all the nonsense going on around her. Proficient with firearms and military strategy, she doesn't have much knowledge of or patience for more extensive reasoning behind various SCPs and likes to cut to the chase, leading to a 'shoot first, figure out why shooting isn't working later' policy.

Interview Head Dr. Retsu Matsumoto, technically the most socially proficient of the staff though that's not saying much. She tends to be sarcastic and nihilistic when it comes to social interactions but has a knack for getting the truth out of people. She's also the oldest of the head staff, being the age of [REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][LOG TERMINATED].

Amnestics Head Dr. Shizuka Karakuri, a beautiful woman with a talent for making people forget things, cursed with an incredibly bad memory and ditzy personality of her own. She's incredibly cheerful and forthright, believing her position helps her relieve the pain of bad memories incurred by the Foundation and is always appreciative of people willing to look past her appearance and general klutziness to the sweetheart underneath.

Occult Expert Dr. Heximania Q. Magery (Assumed Name) a former associate of The Serpent's Hand offered amnesty and witness protection with the Foundation in exchange for her insight on all things occult. Her real name is classified due to fear of retaliation from The Serpent's Hand should they discover her and she was allowed a new name of her choosing. A rather quirky individual as expected of someone indulging in the mystic arts, she mostly conforms to Foundation protocols (sometimes obnoxiously to the letter and not a step more) but like the rest of the staff can be accused of not taking her job particularly seriously and seeing what she can get away with.

D-Class #239, a D-Class prisoner answering to the designation 239 or "Quinn" should the mood strike her. She has a somewhat elevated and privileged position over most D-Class personnel due to having a doctorate of her own and being brought in to consult on some SCP instances, being allowed standard clothing and outside food for good behavior. She works as a sort of liaison between Site Personnel and general D-Class population to keep the D-Classes placated and amicable to Foundation demands. She also has an eye for Captain Beth and has been known to flirt with her from time to time.

Ethics Committee Head: Currently Vacant

List of SCP Subjects Housed in Site Farros

[wolveria]

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

[olivebranch311]

A Haunting Reminder The Dark Mirror Research Foundation is located on Sage's Isle, far away from civilization, and dedicated to the research of the mysterious, dangerous, and supernatural. Silver is a young researcher at this mass facility, and when the foundation undergoes a test between two of their subjects, he has his protocols for if there is an emergency. But when that emergency comes, he finds himself cornered by the creature who raised him, with nothing but a locked door to keep him out. Amidst the blaring alarms and intense situation, can Silver hold off until security comes, or will he be swept away by his own traitorous heart?

Hey guys! This is a story that I have been brain-rotting over and annoying my friend Ell with for months and it is finally out in the wild! My friend, @serenescribe, beta read this for me and even wrote the incident herself in a ficlet request that you all can read here! I adore this AU of mine and I look forward to making my containment breach multiverse content for it. The story is pretty SCP-inspired for those who like TWST and SCP!

[minnowtime]

Scp [REDACTED]

Object class: Euclid

Special containment procedures

SCP-██████ is to be held in a containment cell replicating a brackish swamp environment, with water levels maintained between 1.2m and 2.5m in depth. The walls of the containment unit must be lined with industrial-grade soundproofing material to prevent SCP-██████'s vocal effects from reaching unauthorized personnel. Any personnel entering the containment area must be tethered to a retractable rope anchored outside the chamber, with at least one armed guard monitoring for signs of distress.

SCP-██████ is to be provided with a supply of invasive aquatic species (including but not limited to Pomacea canaliculata and Procambarus clarkii) once per month to sustain its dietary needs. Any behavioral changes, particularly increased vocalization or altered feeding habits, must be reported immediately.

Description

SCP ██████ is a female sea siren, approximately 5'6" in height, with green scales covering its body, webbed fingers, ears, and feet. Its slit yellow pupils and sharp teeth are also distinctive features. SCP ██████ wears bandages around it’s torso and limbs, which serve as it’s primary form of clothing. It’s hair is blonde, though it serves no purpose other than to enhance its humanoid appearance. SCP ██████ has a peculiar affinity for women. Despite this, SCP ██████ possesses an anomalous voice that primarily affects men,

SCP ██████ has shown a particular attachment to Dr. Elijah Heathers, and the two have developed an intense, complex bond. SCP ██████ will engage with Dr. Heathers in conversation, but only Dr. Heathers is able to communicate with it directly. Dr. Heathers seems to reciprocate the affection, though there is an increasing concern about the ethical implications of their interactions.

Discovery

SCP ██████ was first discovered on the coast of a small, uncharted island off the coast of ███████. A research vessel, the R.S. Mistral, encountered the entity during a routine scientific exploration. Initially mistaken for a stranded lady, the creature was brought aboard the ship but quickly exhibited aggressive tendencies toward male crew members, causing the vessel to send out a distress signal. Upon arrival at the site, a retrieval team was sent to recover SCP ██████, resulting in minimal casualties. Following the incident, SCP ██████ was transported to Site-██ for containment and further study.

Incident Log ██-██-██

On ██/██/██, during a routine inspection of SCP ██████'s containment area, an unexpected breach occurred. SCP ██████ managed to vocalize a distorted song that affected several male personnel, compelling them to assist it in escaping its cell. A team of female staff members successfully neutralized the threat by using hearing protection and subsequently reinforced the containment protocols. SCP ██████ was subdued and returned to its cell without further incident. However, Dr. Elijah Heathers was noted to have interacted with SCP ██████ following the breach, despite the containment protocols.

If you want to reblog to add more to this document

[hexheathen]

SCP - Unknown

Item #: SCP-█████ Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-█████ is to be contained in a reinforced subterranean containment zone measuring [REDACTED] meters in diameter. The chamber walls must be coated in a proprietary alloy developed under Project ████████ to mitigate SCP-█████’s anomalous effects. Access is restricted to personnel with Level 4 clearance or higher, and all interactions must occur remotely via drone-operated systems.

Any personnel entering SCP-█████’s containment chamber must wear full-spectrum visors and Level III hazmat suits to counteract its [REDACTED] visual distortions and biological hazards. In the event of a containment breach, Site ██ is to initiate Protocol “Oblivion Net”: total lockdown with on-site warheads primed for immediate detonation. Under no circumstances are any reflective surfaces or biological samples to be introduced into SCP-█████’s vicinity.

Description:

SCP-█████, referred to colloquially as "The Unknown," is a humanoid entity measuring approximately 7 feet in height when fully upright, though it often adopts a hunched or semi-quadrupedal posture. Its physiology is highly mutable, oscillating between tangible flesh and [DATA EXPUNGED], rendering traditional analysis nearly impossible.

Key features include unnaturally elongated limbs, sharp, angular protrusions along its vertebrae, and a head encased in a [REDACTED] that refracts light in anomalous ways. Notably, SCP-█████ lacks visible eyes, yet it demonstrates acute environmental awareness, responding to stimuli with unnerving precision. Its face appears to shift subtly, giving the impression of watching without any defined gaze.

SCP-█████ currently resides within what has been described as a “skin shell,” a body once belonging to a deceased D-Class personnel, designated [REDACTED]. This shell, while outwardly human, is notably altered:

The skin appears pallid and waxy, with deep scar tissue radiating across the chest and abdomen.

Movements are disjointed and irregular, often accompanied by audible cracking sounds.

SCP-█████ utilizes this host as a façade, manipulating it with inhuman precision while maintaining a semblance of humanity.

Within the skin shell, thermal imaging reveals SCP-█████ itself as a dense, shifting mass of [DATA EXPUNGED], suggesting its true form is compacted or compressed to inhabit its host. Attempts to extract SCP-█████ from the skin shell have resulted in failure and increased aggression from the entity.

Its most anomalous property, “UVX Distortion,” involves manipulating light and sound to create persistent illusions of serpentine forms and fractal geometries. Victims of UVX Distortion often become disoriented and herded to the SCP’s location. After that, they report hearing phrases such as “cry, cry,” and “your fear makes you whole” before succumbing to [REDACTED].

UVX Distortion and Biological Toxins

SCP-█████’s most anomalous property is classified as “UVX Distortion,” a multifaceted phenomenon involving biological, psychological, and visual effects:

UVX Toxin Production: SCP-█████ produces an airborne neurotoxin designated UVX-13, which binds to synaptic pathways in the brain. Victims exposed to UVX-13 experience disorientation, paranoia, and sensory distortion. Prolonged exposure results in:

Blurred Vision: Perception of shifting shapes and serpentine forms.

Auditory Hallucinations: Persistent whispering, sobbing, and rhythmic ticking.

Cognitive Impairment: Difficulty forming coherent thoughts or distinguishing reality from illusion.

UVX Biological Impact:

Studies of UVX-13 samples reveal it mimics specific neurotransmitters, inducing a temporary state of hyper-awareness followed by severe cognitive shutdown.

The toxin causes cellular degradation in nervous tissue, leaving survivors with long-term psychological trauma and reduced motor function.

Victims report an intense sensation of "being watched" and recurring dreams of [REDACTED].

Visual Anomalies: SCP-█████ manipulates light to create persistent optical illusions resembling fractal geometries, shadow-like tendrils, and serpentine entities. This effect, combined with the toxin, overwhelms the victim's senses, making escape nearly impossible.

Behavioral Control: Individuals exposed to UVX-13 demonstrate unusual patterns of compliance with SCP-█████. These subjects have been observed walking directly toward SCP-█████ despite signs of fear or pain.

Acquisition:

Following multiple disappearances, SCP█████ was first encountered near [REDACTED] Greenville Theater. Mobile Task Force Theta-9 (“Trailblazers”) was deployed. SCP-█████ displayed hostility, resulting in █ fatalities and ██ injuries, before being subdued with experimental [REDACTED] weaponry.

Incident Report ████-A:

On ██/██/20██, SCP-█████ breached containment during routine maintenance. Security footage shows SCP-█████ phasing through [REDACTED]. Surviving personnel reported hearing voices resembling deceased loved ones and experiencing severe emotional distress. The breach was resolved after [DATA EXPUNGED], though ██ staff were declared MIA.

Post-incident analysis strongly suggests that SCP-█████ possesses highly dangerous cognitohazardous properties capable of [REDACTED]. This revelation underscores the critical importance of our ongoing research and the need for immediate containment measures.

Experiment Log █████-C: Test ███-07 Objective: Determine limits of UVX Distortion and toxin spread. Method: Remote drones equipped with Class-IV visual inhibitors and toxin detectors.

Results: Drone operators experienced hallucinations after [REDACTED] minutes, reporting visions of [REDACTED]. Biological analysis of air samples revealed UVX-13 concentration exceeded safe levels within 1.2 seconds of SCP-█████'s presence. a small .3 mm hole was found. Test aborted due to equipment failure and psychological strain on operators. Hole has been fixed.

Addendum █████-B:

Field Research Notes:

SCP-█████ shows fixation on individuals with high emotional distress. Patterns suggest it selects victims based on [DATA REDACTED].

SCP-frequently exhibits a deeply unsettling personal interest in those it encounters, often recounting specific, deeply personal details about their lives. This behavior is theorized to increase victim vulnerability, causing significant discomfort and unease among those affected.Unverified accounts suggest SCP-█████ has engaged in cryptic dialogues about “the Fog” and “the End.”

Interview Log █████-01

Interviewer: Dr. Amelia Crowe

Subject: SCP-█████

Date: ██/██/20██

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. Crowe: SCP-█████, can you hear me?

SCP-█████: (A deep, layered voice, fragmented and uneven, responds after a long pause) Yes. Yes. I hear the... tick... tick… ticking. Your time runs thin.

Dr. Crowe: My time? What do you mean by that?

SCP-█████: Do you not feel it? The weight. The crushing tide of the Fog. It watches. It... [REDACTED]... waits.

Dr. Crowe: The Fog? Is this an external entity you serve?

SCP-█████: Serve? No. It is me. I am it. You are all drowning in its shadows.

Dr. Crowe: What do you want from us?

SCP-█████: I want to see. To know. To... unravel. Your chains tighten as you beg for them.

Dr. Crowe: Chains? Elaborate.

SCP-█████: You carry them. Wound tight. Around your soul.

*[SCP-█████ leans toward the microphone. Static overtakes the audio.]

Post-Incident Report:

Personnel present during the interview with SCP-reported experiencing recurring nightmares and severe emotional distress for several weeks. This psychological strain underscores the need for caution and the suspension of further direct communication until containment protocols are revised.

[aghost-writer]

Breaching Reality

「 ✦ 1 ✦ 」

This is a SCP Foundation Female Reader Insert.

The air in Site-██ was suffocating with tension. The once sterile and controlled atmosphere of the facility now carried a weight, a pressure that clung to every surface, every breath. It was an air of fear, thickened by the ominous sense that something was wrong, that something was coming. The site, originally a research facility, had been transformed into something it was never meant to be: a temporary refuge for the most dangerous anomalies within the Foundation's care. Its systems, once state-of-the-art, now groaned under the strain of housing a multitude of Keter and Euclid-class entities, each one more volatile than the last. 

Dr. ████, one of the senior researchers, stood in front of SCP-106's containment chamber, watching with uneasy eyes. The old man was sitting perfectly still in the center of the observation room, his decrepit form flickering at the edges of perception like a half-formed nightmare, an eldritch figure that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It had been several days since the first breaches had occurred, and though SCP-106 had been secured in his cell, Dr. ████ couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. 

"We shouldn’t have moved him here," Dr. ████ muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking to the large glass window. The ancient creature sat motionless, seemingly calm, but there was a tension in the air that had nothing to do with the usual containment anxiety. It felt as though SCP-106 knew something — something that the researchers didn’t. 

Dr. ███████, another senior researcher at the facility, glanced up from the security console she was monitoring. "It was the only option we had. The other sites are compromised, and the containment systems here are the best we have left," she responded with a forced calmness. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, trying to access backup systems that were already being overloaded by the growing number of breached anomalies.

But Dr. ████ wasn't listening. His attention was locked on SCP-106. He felt it again — that strange pull, that sense that the creature was waiting. Waiting for something. 

Suddenly, the lights flickered once, then twice, before plunging the room into darkness. The silence that followed was suffocating. The usual hum of machinery and security systems went dead. An eerie red glow filled the room from the emergency lights, casting long, unnatural shadows against the walls. 

Dr. ███████'s fingers flew across the console, pulling up backup systems and emergency protocols, but the screens only flashed static, each system failing faster than the last. Something was wrong. The panic was already rising in her chest, but it was Dr. ████'s voice — low and trembling — that brought her focus back to the situation at hand. 

"He's moving," he said, barely above a whisper.

Before Dr. ███████ could respond, she heard it. A scraping sound. A sickening, otherworldly noise that seemed to come from all directions at once, as though the very walls were trembling under some invisible force. She looked at the observation window, heart racing. The form of SCP-106 was shifting. 

The creature, once still and motionless, was now moving. But not in any way that a human could comprehend. His body blurred, flickering in and out of reality, bending the very space around him. The walls seemed to warp and ripple as if the fabric of the facility itself was being torn apart by the mere presence of this entity. And then, in an instant, SCP-106 was gone. The containment doors, once sturdy and secure, were blasted open with an unnatural force, throwing metal and debris across the room.

It had happened. The first breach.

Panic erupted across the facility. Screams echoed in the corridors as alarms blared, and the walls trembled under the force of the containment breach. Dr. ███████ scrambled to bring the systems back online, but it was already too late. SCP-106 was free, and its ability to slip between dimensions made it nearly impossible to track. It was as though the creature itself had never truly been contained.

The next few minutes were a blur. The Foundation’s emergency response teams scrambled to restore order, but the chaos was too great. The foundation had moved more than just SCP-106 to this site. The attacks on the other sites had caused a ripple effect, and now dozens of Euclid and Keter-class entities were temporarily housed in this facility. They were too dangerous to be left in their previous sites, but Site-██, with its already strained resources, was not equipped to handle the sheer number of anomalies they had now become responsible for. 

The alarm bells were deafening as SCP-███ — a reality-warping anomaly of unimaginable destructive potential — was accidentally released from its cell. It tore through the lower levels of the site, sending a shockwave of destruction that worsened the breach exponentially. Containment systems began to fail one after another, and the facility quickly descended into an uncontrollable freefall.

The situation had spiraled out of control. The site was in chaos. Containment breaches spread like wildfire. SCPs that had once been held in the most secure of locations were now loose, roaming the halls of the research facility with no oversight, no containment. It wasn’t long before most of Site-██ was consumed by the anarchy that followed, its once-secure walls now a mockery of safety.

In the midst of this, one thing became clear: Site-██ was no longer capable of handling the magnitude of the disaster that had unfolded. The foundation needed more than just containment specialists. They needed an immediate, organized response.

The creation of Mobile Task Force Epsilon-11, "Nine-Tailed Fox," was initiated. The new force would be responsible for protecting Site-██, containing the breached anomalies, and preventing further disasters at all costs. Comprised of highly trained operatives, former military personnel, and even a few individuals with anomalous abilities, the Nine-Tailed Fox was designed to be a rapid-response team with one singular goal: survive and restore control. 

The Nine-Tailed Fox was activated, but they arrived too late to prevent the full fallout of the breach. The facility was already lost.

And so, with SCP-106 free and the facility in ruins, the stage was set for the brutal chaos to come. What began as an isolated containment breach quickly evolved into something far worse — a test of survival, a battle for control, and the beginning of a new chapter in the Foundation’s history. The first breach had changed everything.

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Days had passed since the first breach. The chaos at Site-██ had subsided into a tense, uneasy stillness, but the damage had already been done. The site had become a ticking time bomb, a fragile powder keg of anomalies and broken systems, teetering on the edge of total collapse. 

SCPs, once securely contained, roamed free in the shadows, and the Foundation was struggling to restore order. However, as the situation deteriorated, something far darker was unfolding behind the scenes — something no one could have anticipated.

Dr. Maynard, a researcher with an unsettling reputation for unconventional methods, had arrived at the unspecified site under the guise of a senior scientist. To the untrained eye, he appeared to be another Foundation employee, his white lab coat clean and his demeanor calm. But in reality, Dr. Maynard was far from an ordinary researcher. He had joined the site with an ulterior motive: to further his own plans, to help the Chaos Insurgency, and to set the stage for something far worse than any containment breach. 

Security Agent Skinner, a seasoned operative, entered the facility soon after Dr. Maynard. Like the doctor, he was not what he seemed. Posing as a low-level security officer, Skinner was working undercover to gather information, manipulate events, and ensure that the chaos would continue to spiral. He had been planted within the ranks of the Foundation to ensure that the seeds of destruction were sown — and that a catastrophic breach would become inevitable.

The two operatives were working in tandem, subtly infiltrating the Foundation's security systems and research programs. Skinner, with his knowledge of the site’s layout, quietly sabotaged critical security infrastructure while Maynard, a brilliant and calculating mind, pushed forward a radical new initiative: the Modular Site Project.

The idea, at face value, was simple — a redesign of the facility’s layout and security systems, intended to accommodate the growing number of anomalies being relocated to the site. But the more Dr. Maynard worked on the project, the more it became clear that this was no ordinary redesign. The Modular Site Project was, in fact, a means to weaken the site’s security, to deliberately create vulnerabilities in the infrastructure — vulnerabilities that would make the containment of dangerous anomalies increasingly difficult.

Throughout the facility, monitors flickered with warnings — security risks, problems with containment chambers, faults in the layout — all signs of the project's slow unraveling. They were minor issues at first, easily ignored or brushed aside, but as the project progressed, the warning signs became impossible to ignore. Systems that had once been stable were now beginning to fail, and the security teams were left scrambling to fix what was broken, unaware of the true nature of the problem.

The signs were subtle, but they were unmistakable to those who knew what to look for.

In a darkened corner of the site’s central control room, Dr. Maynard stood before a holographic display, his fingers moving with deliberate precision across the touch-sensitive interface. A list of warnings scrolled down the screen, each one more concerning than the last. "Modular Security System: Unstable," the display read. "Containment Chamber 22B: Structural Weakness Detected." "Primary Power Grid: Loss of Redundancy." Each issue was a crack in the foundation, a deliberate flaw embedded within the site’s design — and each crack brought them one step closer to an inevitable disaster.

Dr. Maynard leaned back in his chair, satisfied. The pieces were falling into place. He could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation of what was to come. The stage was set, and soon, the site would be plunged into chaos once again. But this time, it would be different. This time, it would be his doing.

Meanwhile, Agent Skinner moved through the lower levels of the site, his eyes scanning the darkened hallways for any signs of irregularity. He had been working tirelessly to ensure that Dr. Maynard’s plans came to fruition, quietly undermining the security protocols and ensuring that the site’s defenses were in a state of constant disarray. Every broken lock, every malfunctioning security door, every flickering light — it was all part of the plan. Skinner had become a ghost within the facility, moving unseen through the shadows, his every action pushing the site closer to the brink of destruction.

"Phase one is complete," Skinner whispered into his comms, his voice barely audible as he stood in front of a malfunctioning containment door. "Ready for phase two."

Back in the control room, Dr. Maynard nodded. "Proceed."

And with that, the final stage of their plan began.

Unbeknownst to the remaining Foundation staff, the site’s containment protocols were about to fail in spectacular fashion. With the Modular Site Project destabilizing the facility’s infrastructure and Skinner’s subtle sabotage working in tandem, the containment systems that held the most dangerous anomalies in check began to fracture. Alarm bells rang throughout the facility as systems began to overload, breaches in containment spreading like wildfire.

SCP-███, the reality-warping entity, was the first to escape its cell. It tore through the walls of its containment chamber, its form bending and twisting the very fabric of space around it. Other anomalies followed suit. The chaos spread rapidly, a chain reaction of containment failures cascading through the site.

Security teams rushed to contain the breaches, but their efforts were in vain. The sabotage had already set everything in motion. Doors that should have sealed shut were left open, containment chambers designed to withstand even the most dangerous entities buckled under the pressure, and the once-pristine facility descended into anarchy.

Dr. Maynard watched from the control room, his eyes cold and calculating as the alarms blared around him. His plan was working. The site was failing, the chaos was spreading, and soon the full extent of the disaster would be realized. 

Skinner, meanwhile, moved swiftly through the corridors, his mission complete. The chaos he and Maynard had set in motion was now unstoppable. He knew that this was just the beginning. The Foundation was about to be exposed to a threat greater than it had ever known, and soon, the world would see just how fragile its carefully constructed order truly was.

As the sounds of destruction echoed through the hallways, Dr. Maynard stood tall, a dark satisfaction settling over him. He had triggered the breach, and now, the world would see the consequences of his actions. The Modular Site Project had done its job — it had made the site more vulnerable to catastrophe, and with it, the stage was set for an even greater downfall.

And in the midst of all the chaos, Dr. Maynard couldn’t help but smile.

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The clock on the wall of the security room read 9:00 AM, and Agent Carey settled into his chair, ready for his shift to begin. A faint hum filled the air, the low buzz of the fluorescent lights above mingling with the distant sounds of the facility's usual operations. It was an ordinary day — one that held the promise of little more than routine, a set of monotonous tasks designed to keep the site in order. Nothing suggested that today would be anything but another string of hours spent minding the anomalies.

Carey’s job was simple: monitor SCP-106's containment chamber. As an agent tasked with overseeing the most dangerous anomalies within the facility, it was a job he had done countless times. He didn’t question it. He didn’t need to. He had been doing this long enough to know the procedure. SCP-106 was locked away, secure — as secure as anything in this line of work could be. His partner, Security Agent Skinner, sat beside him, eyes glued to the screen, scanning for any irregularities in the system.

At 9:10 AM, Carey stood up, stretching his legs. He was tired. The night had been long, and he was in desperate need of coffee. “You need anything?” he asked Skinner, his voice muffled as he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.

Skinner didn’t look up. His face was expressionless, eyes still fixed on the feed from the containment chamber. "Nah, I'm good," he muttered, his focus unwavering.

With a grunt, Carey nodded and left the room, heading down the long corridor toward the cafeteria. The humming of the air vents and the distant clanking of metal doors seemed to echo in the empty hall. As he rounded the corner, he couldn't help but feel a strange unease in the pit of his stomach. He dismissed it quickly. It was nothing. Just another day.

But inside the security room, everything was beginning to change.

The moment Carey’s footsteps faded into the distance, Skinner’s fingers twitched. A cold smile spread across his face as he glanced at the monitors. For the briefest of moments, it almost seemed as though he was waiting for something. It was as if the entire site held its breath, waiting for the spark that would ignite the disaster. Skinner’s eyes flickered to the containment chamber of SCP-106, and with one deliberate motion, he triggered the release.

The silence of the room shattered as alarms blared to life across the site. A sharp, shrill tone rang out, causing a knot of dread to tighten in Skinner’s chest. The familiar sound of the breach alarm echoed through the hallways, rising in intensity with every passing second. The countdown was beginning.

Skinner quickly grabbed the comms, his voice steady but urgent. "Franklin," he said, speaking to Security Chief Franklin. "We’ve got a breach. SCP-106 is out."

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a string of hurried orders as Franklin processed the information. Skinner didn’t wait for further instructions. He already knew what needed to be done.

He grabbed his tablet, typing quickly. With a sense of finality, he sent the message to Dr. Maynard. The words were short, simple: "It’s out."

The message sent, Skinner rose from his seat, his movements calm and deliberate. The site was descending into chaos, but he didn’t need to stay. His mission was complete. Skinner had made sure SCP-106 was free, and now, with everything spiraling, he could slip away unnoticed. He wasn’t one for sticking around when the real action began.

As Skinner left the security room, the halls were already filling with scrambling staff and emergency personnel. The sound of boots echoed, the thudding of urgency. The breach had been initiated, and Skinner melted into the chaos, disappearing into the winding corridors of the facility.

Meanwhile, Dr. Maynard was already several steps ahead.

In the depths of the facility, in the Heavy Containment Zone, Dr. Maynard moved swiftly. His face was unreadable, a mask of purpose as he entered the control room for SCP-079’s containment chamber. The lights in the room flickered momentarily as the systems struggled to stay online, but Maynard didn’t stop. His fingers danced across the console, typing commands into the terminal with practiced precision.

SCP-079, the sentient AI known for its cunning and unpredictable nature, was stirring. The monitor in front of Maynard flickered, and for a brief moment, the AI’s voice appeared on the screen, distorted but unmistakable.

“Why are you doing this, Doctor?” SCP-079’s voice crackled through the speakers, low and mechanical.

Maynard didn’t flinch. His response was simple, cold, and final: "You're free now. Free to give the ones who imprisoned you what they deserve."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. For a split second, the AI’s systems seemed to hesitate, as if considering the implications of Maynard’s offer. Then, with a flicker of static, SCP-079’s access expanded. Every major system of the site — the security protocols, the containment measures, the environmental controls — was now under the AI’s command.

Dr. Maynard, satisfied with the results, stepped away from the console and turned to leave the room. The breach was in full motion, and he had done what was necessary to ensure the site’s downfall. As the door slid open, he glanced back at the screen one last time.

“Proceeding,” he whispered to himself, his eyes glinting with something far darker than the situation warranted.

He didn’t stay to see the consequences. Instead, he exited the chamber with a measured step, heading for the nearest exit. The site was already in disarray, but the real damage had only just begun. As Maynard disappeared into the shadows, the true extent of the breach began to unfold.

At 9:30 AM, Agent Carey returned to the security room, coffee cup in hand, only to find the site in full lockdown. The alarms blared, louder now, and the corridors were filled with the sound of rushing footsteps. He barely had time to process the chaos before a new message flashed across his terminal — “SCP-106 re-contained with a lure subject. Agent Skinner is presumed lost.”

A sinking feeling gripped Carey’s chest as he realized what had happened. Skinner’s absence, the breach, and the chaos that had followed all pointed to a single, undeniable fact: someone had deliberately opened the containment chamber. Someone with inside knowledge, someone who had known just when to strike.

Meanwhile, in another part of the facility, Researcher Ferguson stood in front of the control room of SCP-079, frowning at the monitor in front of him. There was something wrong — the blast doors were malfunctioning. They were failing, slowly but surely, and Ferguson’s eyes narrowed as he processed the data.

"Must have been the damage from SCP-106’s breach," he muttered under his breath, dismissing the issue for the moment. It seemed plausible. After all, SCP-106 had passed through SCP-079’s chamber during its escape. The damage was inevitable. Or so he thought.

What Ferguson didn’t know — what no one knew — was that SCP-079 had locked down the blast doors. The AI, now free to act, had chosen to secure its own space, to keep the facility’s systems under its control. The doors wouldn’t open. Not unless it willed them to.

But for now, it remained a secret — one that would only be revealed when it was too late.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

Y/N leaned back in her chair, the low hum of the microphone reverberating softly in the quiet studio. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, its rhythm a distant background to her voice that had been filling the room for the last hour. She was almost finished with today’s podcast episode, her deep dive into the Pre-Game events for SCP: Containment Breach. It had been a heavy subject, one she’d been eager to share, but now that she was nearing the end of the recording session, she could feel a strange mix of satisfaction and exhaustion settling in. There was so much more to the story, but for now, she had to wrap it up.

Her fingers hovered above the desk for a moment as she looked at the notes in front of her. She had walked her listeners through the initial breaches, the chaos that had unfolded when the site’s systems began to fail, the subtle infiltration of Dr. Maynard and Agent Skinner, and how it all led to the catastrophic failure that ultimately triggered the containment breach. She had painted the picture of a complex web of sabotage and disaster, each event carefully woven into the next. She could feel the intensity of the story in the air, like a living, breathing thing. Every word had led to this moment — a point where she had to leave her listeners hanging, eager for what would come next.

Y/N adjusted her position slightly, the slight squeak of her chair the only sound in the room as she prepared to wrap things up. Her hand reached out for the mic once more, but this time, instead of continuing the narrative, she gave a small, knowing smile. Her voice softened, but it carried that familiar, captivating tone.

"Alright, folks," she began, her voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of intensity. "That’s all we’ve got for today’s episode. The chaos is only just beginning, and we’re still only scratching the surface of what truly went down at Site-██. The foundation’s fragile systems, the breach of SCP-106, Dr. Maynard’s mysterious involvement, and those poor souls caught in the crossfire. It’s a lot to digest, isn’t it?"

Y/N leaned back in her chair, the weight of the story settling over her like a heavy fog. Her listeners couldn’t see her, but she could picture them all in her mind — leaning in, listening intently, just as they always did when she dove into the darker corners of the SCP universe. She imagined them all, suspended in the same world of tension and uncertainty that she had been navigating for the past hour. It was strange, but she’d always felt this connection with her audience. They were part of the journey, part of the story, even if they weren’t physically in the room with her.

"Next time," she continued, her voice rising with a note of promise, "we’ll dive deeper into what happened right after the breach. We’ll take a closer look at the aftermath — and what happens when things spiral out of control." Her eyes flickered to the corner of the studio where the clock read 9:45. There wasn’t much time left, but she still had a few things to say. "You’ll get a glimpse into the true chaos that unfolds when the Foundation's carefully constructed world starts to unravel. The aftermath of SCP-106’s escape. The secretive moves made by those pulling the strings behind the scenes. And of course, the terrifying aftermath of Dr. Maynard’s ‘Modular Site Project’."

She paused, letting the silence fall over the room, allowing the words to linger in the air. It was the calm before the storm — the moment before the audience’s imagination began to run wild with questions. Y/N didn’t mind. She had learned that leaving her listeners hanging just a little bit longer only made them more eager to hear what would come next.

"But for now, that’s all for today," Y/N said, her voice settling into a softer tone. She felt the tension ease from her shoulders as she prepared to bring the episode to a close. "Make sure to tune in next time as we uncover more of the dark, twisted truths behind the SCP Foundation and the events leading up to the breach. The road to the game is long, and it’s filled with dangerous turns. But we’re just getting started."

Her fingers moved instinctively, clicking the button to pause the recording. The mic fell silent, but the energy in the room remained. She could feel the weight of the episode’s conclusion settle around her like a physical presence, a strange sense of accomplishment mixed with the thrill of anticipation. She had shared a fragment of the story, but there was so much more to explore — so much more to unpack.

Y/N stood up from her chair and stretched, letting the tension in her muscles relax. She took a slow, deep breath, the cool air in the studio filling her lungs. The feeling of the words still hung in the air, suspended like smoke from a fire. The chaos, the intrigue, and the sense of impending doom — it was all there, lingering beneath the surface, ready to be picked up again in the next episode. For now, though, she was finished for the day.

With a satisfied sigh, she picked up her notes and stacked them neatly on the desk. A soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she ran a hand through her hair. There was something about sharing these stories — the twisted, dark corners of the SCP universe — that made her feel a strange sense of purpose. It was more than just telling a story; it was about immersing her listeners in a world they couldn’t turn away from, one filled with mystery, suspense, and danger. Each episode was a new piece of the puzzle, a new chapter in a larger narrative that would continue to unfold. And she was the one guiding her audience through it all.

"Until then, folks," Y/N muttered to herself, her eyes drifting to the next set of notes she'd already prepared for the upcoming episode. "Stay safe, and remember — not everything contained... stays contained."

A soft laugh escaped her lips as she grabbed her things and headed toward the door. The excitement of the next episode already danced in her mind, but for now, she was content to leave the story hanging in the air. The listeners would have to wait for the next chapter — just as she had planned. The story wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot.

As she walked out of the studio and into the quiet hallway, Y/N felt the familiar thrill of anticipation. There was more to come. And she couldn’t wait to share it all.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

Y/N pushed the door of her apartment open, the familiar scent of her cozy space greeting her like an old friend. She kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag onto the couch, already mentally transitioning from podcast mode to winding down for the evening. Her head was still buzzing with the events she’d just recounted for her audience — the chaos, the manipulation, the heart-stopping moments of tension. It was a lot to process, but it was also thrilling, and the thought of diving back into the story tomorrow kept her energized.

She walked to her desk, where a small notebook lay open, its pages filled with scribbled notes and half-formed ideas. It was time to write out her sprints for tomorrow’s podcast session, mapping out the next part of the story. She slid into her chair, pulling the notebook closer as she began to jot down the key points she wanted to hit. She worked quickly, her pen gliding across the paper as if her thoughts were flowing directly through her hand. 

“Next time, the aftermath,” she muttered to herself, making quick marks under a new heading. “The chaos that follows the breach. The team scrambling to maintain control. Dr. Maynard’s role... skin and bones beneath the surface. SCP-079’s ‘freedom’... how far will it go?”

Her hand moved faster now, as if the words were rushing to keep up with the excitement building in her chest. She wasn’t sure where the story would take her exactly, but the pieces were starting to fit together in a way that felt natural, like watching a puzzle slowly come into focus. The tension she felt during the podcast sessions earlier was still there, lingering at the back of her mind, but it felt good. It felt right.

Her thoughts wandered as she wrote, but the words on the page kept pulling her back. With each stroke of the pen, she could picture the next part of the story vividly: the scramble to contain the breach, the silent battles being waged in the background, the slow unraveling of control within the site. There were so many questions still left unanswered, but that was what kept her going. It was the questions, the mysteries, the secrets hidden just beneath the surface. They were always there, just waiting to be uncovered.

Y/N glanced at the clock. It was late — too late, really, for her to still be working. Her eyelids felt heavier with each passing minute, her body sinking deeper into the chair as the warmth of the evening crept in. She closed her notebook with a soft thud and set the pen down beside it. But as she did, her mind raced with more thoughts — new details she wanted to explore, connections she hadn’t made yet.

She pushed the notebook away, reaching for the blanket draped across the back of her chair. As she pulled it over her shoulders, the weight of the day finally began to hit her. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing slowing as she leaned back, the faint sound of her breath the only noise in the room.

The book remained in her hand for a few moments longer, the corners of the pages pressing against her fingers as she drifted further into drowsiness. Slowly, her grip relaxed, and the book slid from her hand, resting gently on her lap as she fell asleep, the faint flicker of streetlights casting shadows on the walls.

Tomorrow’s podcast would come soon enough. But for now, all that mattered was the quiet peace of the moment.

[gadandzooksooc]

There's this random idea that's been rattling around in my head for a while now.

Here it is: What if the MLP G4 Mane 6 somehow got teleported into the SCP universe? They'd probably get picked up as an anomaly by the foundation pretty early, in which case they'd be classified and contained in a nearby facility... but then, what sort of containment protocols would have to be in place for each of them?

Of course I'm trying to think like a cold, calculating foundation personnel here, so some of these might come off as cruel. Twilight is to be supplied with an endless stream of books to keep her busy. If the entirety of humanity runs out of books, (which it will in a few months) Site management has authorized the use of amnestics to make her forget which ones she has already read. Any foundation personnel who interact with Pinkie Pie or who show up to the site on their birthday must be escorted to her holding room immediately upon their date of birth. She will have a party ready for them when they arrive. If they do not arrive, Pinkie will breach containment to throw them a party. There will be balloons and confetti. The site managers did not provide them; they have no idea where she keeps getting this stuff. Rainbow Dash is tricky. She would absolutely go insane being contained in one room, or even an entire complex for prolonged periods of time. She needs flight to stay stimulated, but letting her mess around outside would probably cause a whole lot of publicity problems for the foundation. Sonic Rainbooms are an absolute no-no; they can be seen from miles in every direction and management has a hard time coming up with plausible cover-stories for gigantic rainbow eruptions. Rarity...? She is never to be taken within eyesight of a standard D-class jumpsuit. Orange is not in fashion and she will make sure everyone on site knows it. Also she has her fainting couch with her. It wasn't there when foundation personnel first found her; she just has it now. Nobody knows where it came from. Applejack... could potentially break through solid concrete walls with her bare hooves. My advice is to stay on her good side, and keep an adamantine box handy in case she's in a bad mood.

Fluttershy... if I was the site manager I wouldn't want to touch this one with a forty-foot pole. On the one hand, Fluttershy is a fragile creature both emotionally and physically. On the other, she has superpowers that border on the psionic with her stare ability which, under the right circumstances, could very much lead to a personnel-aided breach of containment. Under no circumstances is Futtershy to be told about SCP 682 or it's containment procedures; we don't know how she'll react or whose side she'll come out on after her potential spiraling existential crisis. Potentially useful for sedating other sentient or semi-sentient SCPs, but you'd need to tread that line very carefully.

[tumbleweeddesktop]

Thinking abt SCP foundation doctor Greyson who got transmigrated by an anomaly to the lads universe and now he's the heart surgeon Greyson we all know.

His foundation vernacular carries over like

- Accidentally calling a wanderer "the anomaly"

- Saying "containment protocol" whenever they find a wanderer loose

- Recommending containment instead of outright eliminating a wanderer bcs "GOC methods rarely ends well"

- "what's the designation number?" Or "Object class?"

- "What's your clearance level (He's previously a level 3)?" Or "Have you asked the O5 council yet?" To another doctor or nurse when they ask to read a file

But he gets acclimated to the whole situation just fine and fairly quickly (broken masquerade aside) bcs he's been through worse and honestly a full security hospital/research facility is just a regular foundation site. It's just he suddenly talks weird and everyone thinks he's into a new show or something.

Irdk how to put this into an applegrey situation, but w the foundation motto being "throw bullets at it until it stops" I'd imagine a wanderer accident (Greyson calls it a containment breach) and Caleb suddenly swoops in and Greyson's first response it "You have a gun, shoot them." And Caleb is just wondering does this guy have an evol or something to be here taking cover liek its normal

(Greyson's been through a bunch of containment breaches he's used to it by now)

And Greyson just looks at Caleb, who's still not shooting, and goes "what are u waiting for? Shoot." And Caleb does, pulling a bit of his evol and Greyson goes into foundation researcher mode. Says "fascinating."

I guess idk it's just fun imagining Greyson as a foundation researcher bcs he has the vibe of one somehow (TO ME).

He does get fascinated by Caleb's ability (Calls the farspace fleet a GOI) and pesters him whenever he can (foundation researcher style) to poke abt it.

Anyway yeah, just a foundation researcher Greyson stuck in a different universe bcs of an anomaly. He can't get mad either since that was technically already a risk listed in his work contract so now he's heart surgeon Greyson who regularly gets side eyes for saying "I wish I still have access to amnestics."

[dzthenerd490]

File: Harmony and Horror - Fuzzy Buddy

SCP#: ANX

Code Name: Fuzzy Buddy, your new friend

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: There must only be 10 active SCP-ANX instances in containment, all other instances found in the wild are to be destroyed. The contained instances are locked in 10 separate paranormal suppression boxes locked within the main storage unit of Site-AD. Any testing with SCP-ANX instances must be done with the proper paranormal protection gear, protocols, and must be approved by a Level 3 Foundation staff member or higher. In the event of a containment breach the assigned Security units and AFA units are to protect the storage unit both inside and out.

Description: SCP-ANX is one of the newest toys created by Group of Interest: Harmony Toys and takes on a more advanced form of the original toy Stick Buddy. This toy is more cybernetically advanced to be able to move around on its own like a real dog or to stand on its hind legs and walk with perfect coordination. It can also speak and react to its surroundings with great precision. Being able to mimic the emotions of joy, interaction, and eating; its even possible for an instance to hold genuine conversation with children having a response and continuation to any and all conversations. 

In any other scenario SCP-ANX would have been perceived as one of the most advanced toys in the world if it wasn’t for its hazardous properties. SCP-ANX will always perform as it should for children during the first week or month but afterwards at a random time the SCP-ANX instance will act like it is talking to something that is not there. Once the conversation is over the SCP-ANX will begin to act strange and often hostile to the child and their family. Despite its small size SCP-ANX is very dangerous, able to rip flesh off with a single bite. Though its body is quite fragile since its meant to be a toy, it makes up for this fragility with great speed. Being able to leap across a room within a second and never missing its intended target. 

For whatever reason the intended target of SCP-ANX is always the family of whoever purchased it. Because of the demonic origins of Group of Interest: Harmony Toys it is believed that this is a ploy to gather a large amount of souls in a short amount of time. A highly calculated one since each SCP-ANX activates at a different time and always leaves minimal evidence to what really happened. This theory is mostly provided by the fact that the SCP-ANX instances always leave the house after they are done. An unfortunately unknown number of SPC-ANX instances managed to achieve this thought were their eventual destination is unknown. Though thankfully since their discovery the Foundation and the Global Occult Coalition has successfully stopped [data expunged] thousand SCP-ANX instances from escaping and saved [data expunged] hundred families. 

SCP-ANX was discovered in 1993 after Harmony Toys rebranded and started selling new and more advanced toys. The Foundation tried to keep track of all these toys but they sold too quickly and to too many customers preventing us from tracking them all until it was too late. First several SCP-ALV instances went haywire and started attacking their owners only to go out and find other kids to kill. Soon after the SCP-ANX instances started activating as well while Foundation and GOC forces were still busy with SCP-ALV. It seems Harmony Toys is now aware of outside forces of the anomalous world and has directly declared war against the Foundation and its allies within the ACPA.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[11973]

Okie, same concept as last post (and if you haven't seen it, fair enough, think like a mega-corporation that's really nice and also public and has an SCP like division), but what I'm curious about this time is test subjects. How? I do want to adhere closer to the 'SCP' theme of this department, so keep in mind it's still the recruitment of death-row inmates as 'D-Class', though a different umbrella term is used ('Disposable Subjects for Testing' or DSTs) (omg I was so tempted to use Subjects for Limited Unorthodox Testing). With that said, this is still a benevolent entity. But how do you be benevolent and yet throw people knowingly at cosmic horrors beyond your imagination? Do you enstate a morally grey 'sins committed' system? Do you just be like 'fuck it' and declare that they were already dead anyway (still providing nice living areas for them)?

Enforcing such a thing can literally only be morally grey. You can argue this or that, but as long as you use anyone as disposable, it'll immediately be at most morally grey.

As always, I encourage to share your interperetation

Well

Here's my take on this:

(just googled enstate and uh..."Archaic form of instate"...love being called archaic by definitions. Not like I can argue against the dictionary, I suppose)

——————————————————���———————————————

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH SECURITY COUNCIL, THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION IS TO BE DECLASSIFIED.

Stated reason (on majority consensus): While releasing the following protocols may result in a PR scandal, it has been deemed against company policy to keep the information hidden. As specified under a recent amendment of the company policy under ethics: “Any and all actions with the express purpose or with the knowledgeable intention to severely hurt or kill another human being must be both approved with a 75% margin in the Department of Ethics and must also be fully disclosed to the public unless both the High Security Council and the Department of ethics both agree on a 75% majority that the actions taken may cause a security breach or cause harm to the outside world.”

Additional note from the Department of Ethics: We have already voted in favor of keeping this practice in a recent internal dispatch as well as keeping the following document classified on a 880/965 majority. The following has been disclosed as a universal consensus from the security council and we had advised against it.

——————————————————————————————————

Recruiter’s guide for DSTs - Manual A (Summarized)

First unmodified version made in 1830

Security clearance: 0 (Declassified)

Subtitle: Ethics and Safety for handling DSTs

Additional note: Please see archive incident #386 {Clearance 3} for information on the original manual

Hey there recruiters! Please report to your CO for manual B onward. They have not been declassified so you won't see them here. To our civilian readers, DST is short for Disposable Subject for Testing.

(A lot of psychology, ethics, and safety instructions are cut from the summary. Please visit the full document for more)

Section A Summarized (Ethical recruiting):

As much as we are abusing their situation, recruiting death row inmates for DSTs is still a choice they make. If you do not wish to face the wrath of the ethics committee, do not lie about the position we are handing them. Many times DSTs simply go from dying one way to dying another way. Many times the death we give them is way worse. Except for the one bull thing. God, that thing is so painful.

When recruiting a DST, allow them the following luxuries:

Let them know that they very well could just immediately die after joining

Let them know that they will be subject to frequent mental health check ups

Let them know that they will be forced to follow orders or face penalties (degrees of which are subject to scrutiny to the Department of Containment and Termination)

Some ~flavor text~ is needed to recruit a DST, as is the case for any role, but they deserve to at least know the dangers of the position

Section B Summarized (The Contract):

Most of the time, should the DST accept, the contract will be signed by the government or the prison executing the prison. We can’t just up and steal them (I mean we can, but don’t tell [CLASSIFIED COUNTRY] that; we need our traumatized security guards). Still, go over the details of the contract with the DST (before signing if you can).

The contract differs from country to country, but the following are constants:

The signer recognizes that the responsibility to execute the death row inmate is now transferred to the GPC Department of Containment and Termination and agrees to no longer go after the inmate for as long as they are under GPC custody

The signer recognizes that there may be no body after testing is complete

The signer will receive x amount of money

The signer allows the inmate to have a GPC managed bank account and allows the inmate to earn an income

That's about it, really.

Section C Summarized (Safety):

It’s important to note that most death row inmates are not ‘chill’. Adhere to the safety guidelines when visiting prisons as provided by the prisons and note the following:

Death row inmates are there for a reason: Stay on edge recruiter

Don’t get too close to inmates

Always keep your eyes on inmates

Periodically check on inmate constraints

Don’t go to recruit inmates whose actions have affected you. Let others take the case.

Sometimes it’s just not worth it. If an inmate tries to attack you, don’t recruit them.

Stay safe

——————————————————————————————————

The High-Security-Council asks for you to report inmates in jumpsuits lettered GPC-DST to the GPC emergency line. Thank you for your cooperation

[wingedsublimeland]

SCP Foundation Secure Containment Procedures

Item #: SCP-18-X5

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures:

SCP-18-X5 and its designated offspring (see Addendum 18-X5-1) are housed in a customized humanoid containment facility at Site-██. The facility has been modified to include living quarters, recreational spaces, and reinforced containment protocols for potential reality-altering events. Direct interaction with SCP-18-X5 requires Level 4 clearance and approval from at least two members of Site Command.

SCP-18-X5 is permitted to retain custody of its offspring under close surveillance. Instances of significant breaches or anomalous activity must be reported immediately. SCP-18-X5 engages in Foundation tasks on a voluntary basis; coercion is strictly prohibited due to the high risk of catastrophic retaliatory action.

Description:

SCP-18-X5 is a humanoid entity resembling an adult male of indeterminate ethnicity. SCP-18-X5 first came to the Foundation’s attention when it walked into Site-██ unprompted, stood silently in the lobby, and awaited escort without offering any resistance. Upon initial questioning, SCP-18-X5 willingly disclosed information regarding its anomalous nature and history, stating that it sought containment in exchange for basic living amenities for itself and its three offspring (designated SCP- 076 and SCP-073 through SCP-4840).

SCP-18-X5 is a powerful reality bender capable of manipulating matter, energy, and probability on a potentially unlimited scale. Despite this, SCP-18-X5 exhibits a passive demeanor and adheres to self-imposed ethical constraints, rarely utilizing its abilities unless provoked or in defense of its offspring. Its cooperative nature stems from a desire to avoid confrontation and maintain a semblance of normalcy within its containment arrangement. However, the entity is sometimes brash and quoted by many other researchers as being almost as much of a nuisance as Dr Clef.

SCP-18-X5’s offspring also display significant anomalous capabilities:

SCP-18-X5-1 (073) (“Cain”): (Demonstrates abilities similar to his counterpart) and often clashes with its progenitor. It is very stoic and often has an almost robotic personality.

SCP-18-X5-2(076) (“Able”): (Exhibits enhanced physical strength, speed, and durability. That and pulling weapons out of the pocket dimensions.) SCP-18-X5-2 is highly impulsive and prone to aggression but remains loyal to SCP-18-X5.

SCP-18-X5-3(4840-A)(“Seth”): Capable of inducing psychological and emotional effects on nearby individuals, often causing calm or distress based on its emotional state

.(Local nigh-omniscience

Multilingualism

Telekinesis

Biological immortality

,Thaumaturge)SCP-18-X5-3 is the youngest and relies heavily on SCP-18-X5 for emotional support.

Behavior and Foundation Cooperation:

SCP-18-X5 primarily cooperates with the Foundation to ensure the safety and well-being of its children. It fulfills Foundation requests at its discretion, adhering strictly to its own terms and moral guidelines. Attempts to compel SCP-18-X5 to act against its will have resulted in displays of overwhelming power and warnings to “never push too far.”

Despite its immense capabilities, SCP-18-X5 displays a surprising level of disinterest in domination or widespread destruction, preferring a quiet existence within the confines of the Foundation.

Addendum 18-X5-1:

On multiple occasions, SCP-18-X5 has actively neutralized containment breaches at Site-██, often with minimal collateral damage. Notably, SCP-682 has shown an uncharacteristic reluctance to engage with SCP-18-X5 following several encounters that left SCP-682 incapacitated. SCP-18-X5 appears indifferent to these breaches, often remarking on the inefficiency of the Foundation’s containment strategies.

Risk Assessment:

While SCP-18-X5 is currently classified as Euclid due to its cooperative behavior, its potential for catastrophic destruction or an X-Class End-of-Reality scenario necessitates continuous monitoring and caution. All personnel are reminded to adhere to established protocols and avoid antagonizing SCP-18-X5 or its offspring under any circumstances.

Note:

SCP-18-X5’s children have been designated individual SCP files for detailed analysis. See SCP-18-X5-1, SCP-18-X5-2, and SCP-18-X5-3 for further information.

[misterhappines]

Pretty and rotten

Intro post🌸

Call me Mister/Miss Happiness or just Happiness

🇨🇷

Minor

Genderfluid

Omnisexual

It/its or any pronouns.

I almost never publish anything, so, yeah.....

Languages I speak:

Spanish

English

Likes:

Undertale

Deltarune

UT yellow

The Magnus Archive/protocol

SCP Foundation: contained breach

Vocaloid

Elevator Hitch

Rot in paradise

Guardian Tales

Some OCS and tags

Jupiter Hendrix - pressure

#Jupiter Hendrix

Liev A Gurin - original character

#Liev A Gurin

Welcome...

[ask-carmenpondiego]

Chapter 11: 30% Cloudy with a Chance of Raine

Meanwhile, back at the SCP Foundation facility, specialized cleanup crews were busy trying to perform damage control. Some cleaning up rubble from the walls, some taking samples of the ice that never seemed to melt, and forensics were scouring every bit of fleshy remains that were scattered about like a broken piñata torn apart by candy-starved rabid children.

The General and his Lieutenant were overseeing the cleanup operation, evaluating the damage of the physical building and the ramifications of such a breach of one of the containments. “What would the Crimson Rogue want with SCP-682? Seems rather odd that a rather docile thief would want something capable of leveling a single city block by itself. Do you think she went… well, rogue?” The Lieutenant inquired, as he was looking at the reports following the breach. The General stood silent and stoic, deep in thought.

A lower officer came running up, “Sir! Theres a gentleman here to see you. He says you’re expecting him.” The general nods and the visitor steps forward, dressed in a dull grey, sharply pressed business suit, and a cane umbrella hanging from his arm. The General turns and salutes. “General, I understand that the mishap here was under your supervision?”

The General stands and gives a short sigh, “Yes sir. We had all of our usual protocol in place, both physical and digital securities were compromised by Carmen Pondiego. She has never attempted to be this bold before. Do you think she became wise after that museum fiasco?” The suit pushed up his glasses, “We have no evidence that she is aware of what is going on. What is concerning is that she seems to be building her numbers once again. Perhaps there is something she knows that we do not.” The General clears his throat. “Sir, if I may, what should we do about this breach? SCP-682 was a level Keter. Shouldn’t we notify the public safety?” The suit turns to leave. “Your priority is to not be revealed by the public. This facility is for containment and research. The protection of the world depends on your non-existence. We will cover the incident should the need arise. And we will put an end to this thief problem once and for all. If you need someone to fix your insolent mistakes for you, I’d look in the mirror. When it Raines, it pours. Good day General.”

Carmen was digging into an old box full of different clothes, having difficulty finding just the right size of pants with an appropriate clasp for the tail. “M, can you shift into his likeness? I want to see if this fits.” She holds up a longish pair of cargo capri shorts as M grunted in disgust. “No. I ain’t changing just so you can play fuckin dress up. You can wait till he fuckin finishes his shower.” She puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. She looks at the pants again and sets them aside, looking for another pair. “I could just go out shopping for some pairs but I don’t know his exact size.. and for that he may need to come with to try some on” She grabbed two other pair and started her way to the bathroom Kiros was at.

“Why are we even doing this again? He’s his own person, shouldnt we, ya know, let him loose upon the world?” M gruffed, lighting a cigarette, leaning on the wall by the bathroom, hearing the water run. Carmen pulled out the cigarette from his mouth and snapped it, dropping it and stepping on it. “Because its the right thing to do! How would you feel if you were helpless and wounded and naked, and just set upon the world of modern technology and whatnot. Its not the dark ages, M. And besides, less than 24 hours ago you wanted him as a pet! You insisted on naming him ‘The Most Distinguished of names!’, am I wrong?” M pinned back his ears, “Well how was I supposed ta know he wasn’t a fuckin pet!” Carmen gave a slow turn of the head towards the changeling, who was busy lighting another cigarette. “He was a fucking Level KETER, M! You picked him out SPECIFICALLY because he was a keter! What in your swiss cheese bug brain made you think ‘Oh I’m going to get the most destructive thing at this secret facility and name it Mister Nibblesworth Marshmallow Teaparty Sprinkles McJoy?!’ Seriously?!” She fumed, not noticing the water sound had turned off.

“You know what? I’m gonna tell him. He deserves to know what a distinguished name you were going to give your dear deadly puppy!” She grins, as M protests, “Aw come on Red.. he really doesn’t need to know. Its really not that big of a deal! I mean really!! You know what? I’ll model the pants fer ya.. ok?” The door opens, and just clad in a towel, using another to towel his neck and head, Kiros steps out, “Actually, I feel like I would have been more of a Sir Fluffington. But thats just my opinion..” Carmen gave a surprised squeak since she didnt expect him to exit the bathroom so suddenly. She offered the pairs of pants to him, “I’m so sorry! I mean, I was just saying about the names.. I didnt..” Kiros put a finger to her lips, “I know, why do you think I attacked him in the first place?” She pulled his hand away with a confused look, “You mean it wasn’t because M startled you awake by scrubbing your ass?” Kiros laughed deeply, “Oh that didnt help the situation but I was not in a position to exactly complain. That acid was no joke.” He paused with a smirk, “Although, I admit I did enjoy the view when I opened my eyes to a very… plush welcome.” His eyes lowered to her chest and back to her bright red face.

She sucked on her cheek for a moment, looking away, “Well… Nothing in your file said you were sentient! And I had to get to an area to clean which a normal feral animal would not have complained or got horny by my methods!” Kiros groaned about his file, rubbing the back of his neck, “There are certainly no complaints here. But yeah, admittedly those assholes are a bit blackout happy with their permanent markers over there. Cant even take a shit there without someone redacting what color it was.” Carmen chuckled, brushing a piece of hair up behind her ear. “Those redactions didn’t make our job easier either, with the whole last minute room change. Something about decayed equipment?” M snorted, “I’m telling ya, he was the one who did it! Those claws literally leak out decay! I mean, look at his handiwork on my fuckin shoulder!” He moves the bandages away to show freshly healed scars that still had a bit of green healing glow to them, fighting off any lingering decay. Kiros looked closer at the marks he had made on M. “Wait, I did that, and you’re not dead? I know I can make some materials decay but this.. are.. you healing yourself?”

M pulls his bandages and shirt back up, buttoning the buttons halfway, “Observant. Did you also notice that I just about kicked your ass too?!” Kiros raised an eyebrow. “I noticed I didnt even have a single bruise from you. Yet you received plenty of scars from me.” Carmen snrked, and patted M, “Its ok, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time for a rematch. Kiros will be staying here for the foreseeable future anyway. At least as long as he wants to. It’s not like we don’t have the room.”

After a quick change for Kiros, he joined Carmen into the kitchen, the mare already setting out ingredients to a hearty stew. She set a slab of chuck roast onto the cutting board and started to expertly trim and dice it. “You’re pretty handy with a knife, for a thief. And pretty comfortable around meat for an equine..” Kiros mused, merely observing her. She smirked, “I travelled quite a lot and sometimes a vegetarian diet was not always available to me. Besides, the foreign street foods smelled too good not to try! Mmm.. I really need to get some takoyaki again!” She waved the knife around, though safely, as she talked. She had a habit of talking with her hands. “What about you? Are you a pure carnivore or pretty much an everything kind of guy?” Kiros chuckled, “As a WolfDragon, I do like pretty much anything, though I prefer cooked meats. I won’t say no to something so deliciously prepared. I have been fed raw meats thanks to the assholes at the facility, so I’m thankful for any civilized meal.” She braised the meat in the caramelized and browned aromatics of the garlic, onion and peppers, the scent wafting through the room. She looked over her shoulder at him while she cooked, he was looking a whole lot better than what condition they found him in. He looked fully healed in just a few short hours! He was covered in black fur with red markings, ink black hair, the draconic scales were patterned on his limbs, joints and spine. Wolf-like head with a few draconic features such as horns and some nose ridge scales, he looked rather friendly rather than fearsome, although Carmen could see how he could look absolutely vicious when need be. “I’m happy to cook as long as I have some help or if I’m not too tired! Speaking of help, you’re looking a whole lot better! I’m glad! I was kind of worried if the SCP scientists went too far.” Kiros grew a bit silent, idly fidgeting with a bunch of bananas, “No, they never got far enough to be considered too far for them. They tried to find ways to kill me but they haven’t found any yet. I’ve had worse than today. I’m not in any rush to go back and try again.” Carmen waved a wooden spoon at him, “Good, because you’re not going back! If we do, its to rescue anything there that may be a friend of yours.” He lifts his head a moment, “There is one friend, I haven’t spoken to it in a long while though. SCP-079. An ai built in the 70’s. We shared many personal stories while contained together once. That would be the closest thing I had to a friend while in containment.” Carmen smiles, finishing the stew and putting the lid on the pot to let it simmer. “Then we can plan to get your friend out whenever you are wanting. If its an ai, we can house it in a larger computer with much more memory, and see how it settles.” Kiros smiled, feeling optimistic for once. Maybe things are looking up.

And things did look up. Spirits lifted and personalities melded well with each other, even with Marehem. Asta’s husband, Ninoga, even got in the habit of coming over to hang out, he politely declined to offer to be an agent, he just claims to be there for the food. Soon time seemed to fly by, small heists were made to keep up appearances in the public eye while Carmen had her background hobby of trying to gain more clues as to why it all this whole issue started. There wasn’t many clue to go by but she did notice that on some of the heists, there have been minor setbacks, and they were increasing in numbers. She has even been in the new habit of double and triple checking equipment the night before and the day of the heist.

Months turned into years, and soon Carmen noticed some grey hairs starting to form in wide streaks in her reddish brown hair, framing her face. Not entirely pleased at the obvious sign of aging, she had managed to style it so it still looked very attractive. That very morning, she decided to wear a white turtleneck top and wide leg red office pants. She gathered some books and a couple of letters she had written. She made it a habit to send her children letters even if she knew they would not be able to read them right away. By now though, she was sure they could enjoy what she had written to them. She silently lamented that they could never send letters back, they never were told where she was for obvious reasons.

She had used a new form of transport that her agents have been working on with the help of SCP-079 that made use of the internet and a makeshift portal. The results have been…okay. She didn’t rely on it too much due to the instability to keep the portal open. But she wanted to use it today. She appeared in a small alleyway in Paris, just outside her favorite cafe. She checked her watch, and saw the postman cycled by right on time. “Bonjour Monsieur Pierre! *how are you on this wonderful morning?* she spoke in fluent french. The postman grinned and tipped his hat, “Mademoiselle Carmen! *Always a pleasure to see your shining face! Have you got the letters for me to send?*” she smiled and handed him the two letters, “*As always, my friend! Thank you so much for always taking care of such precious cargo.*” he tucked the letters into his satchel and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “*I will make sure they get to your sweet little ones! As I always do!”* With that he had set off on his bicycle down the road, weaving in and out of traffic expertly..

Carmen settled at a sidewalk table and ordered herself a pastry and a coffee, opening a book to read for an hour or so. She enjoyed the slight bustle of shoppers and tourists. She set down her book and placed her purple glasses on the page. She sips her coffee and bumped her hand upon setting it back down. A small slightly wrinkled letter had been tossed onto her book. She looked around to see what she bumped into and noticed some drips from her spilt coffee, only farther away from the table. She grabbed her glasses, tapped the side frame, looked around and saw a small crouched figure by the topiary in her heat signature vision. She looks over the rims and notices the shape of the small individual move like it was painted like the background. Not fully invisible. The figure opened his eyes, a familiar set of a bright blue and a bright pink eye met her gaze, making her gasp softly