#scp 1128

[artsy-sazy]

SCP-1128 Aquatic Horror

[therummonster]

Sherman: i can't believe you dragged me into this.

Doctor: ...

Sherman: you dragged me into a submarine, after infecting yourself with 1128.

Doctor: sherman.

Sherman: not to mention i have a very good idea on why you wanted me to bring these stupid frickin glasses.

Doctor: Sherman.

Sherman: y'know, at least bright won't-

Doctor: Sherman!

Sherman: right right, here.

Sherman: ... you're staring into the dark? you're sure you don't want me to turn on the lights?

Doctor: ... holy fuck.

Sherman: wha...?

Doctor: OH 343. IT'S HUMONGOUS.

1128: i never thought i'd see such fun prey..

[bi-hop]

mwen pa ka sispann gade videyo thalassophobia sou YouTube ODASOJDSAJODSA

[thedovesaredying]

Reverse Fae AU | Fae!Reader x Nikto

Once again I have been tempted into the fae wilds again by the dear @ghouljams and have another piece for your enjoyment! No smut just yet, but it'll be in the next part I post. This fic is just a bit of a "how reader gets her man" explaination.

Putting Nikto through The Horrors TM. because if no one else will then I guess it has to be me.

Y'all might be able to tell SCP-1128 is one of my faves, so I drew a bit of inspiration from there. Unedited as always baby!

Previous | Next

He’s made a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake.  

A voice hums so softly from the bathroom, echoes bouncing against the tiles to create a strange, hypnotic symphony. The sound is so gentle, luring his body into a false sense of security, muscles growing lax despite the thundering of his heart against his chest. His brain is confused, knowing there’s something wrong, but unable to feel the fear he should be trembling with.  

It calls his name in a saccharine tone, dripping with false sweetness. Not even Nikto, but his real name, the one he’s hidden for so long. Despite covering his ears and gritting his teeth against the sound, he can still hear it deep within his mind. He can almost feel the way fingers comb through his thoughts, plucking at his already frail restraint.  

“Отвяжись!” He snaps, nails digging into his own scalp as if he could tear the creature’s influence from his brain with his own two hands.  

“Just open the door,” that damn voice coos, undercut by the sound of claws dragging down the edge of the doorframe. “You called me here, silly human,” the little giggle it makes causes his stomach to flip and a fluttering sensation to develop rather rapidly, “why are you hiding from me?”  

He wants to snarl back that it was a mistake, but you’ve started humming that strange song again, and his entire body has begun to feel as if it’s weighed down by lead. The only sound he can make is a rather pathetic groan, his eyes drooping with a sudden wave of exhaustion.  

He never should have accepted that “gift” from a fae, his babushka would absolutely have his head if she were still around. She’d told him tales, as all grandmothers tend to do, many of them revolving around the trickery and cruelty of the fae. They never do something or give something without expecting something in return.  

It had given him the little vial of water, pressing it into his gloved hands with a grin still dripping blood stolen from the body of one of his allies. “Keep it,” the monster whispers, tickling his ears with her breath despite the many layers of clothing between them, “keep it on your body, at all times.” Her fingers, tipped with dangerously sharp nails gently trail down the front of his body armour, voice purring in a way that sends shivers down his spine.  

He knew better than to refuse, lest it be considered a slight against the creature, and took the little glass jar of water, tucking it into his shirt and watching as the fae disappears back into the lake with a satisfied grin.  

The first time his little gift was used was entirely by accident. A simple infiltration mission where Nikto and his fellow KorTac operators were supposed to be gathering intel before returning to exfil.  

Perhaps it’s because of how simple the mission had been that caused him to grow sloppy. His mind was elsewhere, and that was something the enemy seemed to have noticed and were quick to capitalise on. He would be a little embarrassed if it weren’t for how the rest of the scenario had played out.  

A young enemy soldier – a child really, too young to have more than a few patchy hairs growing on his face – he’d been cocky enough (or perhaps desperate enough) to think he could get the jump on him. A shame, as the boy might have had potential had he not made the mistake of trying to fight the wrong mercenary.  

When he turns a blind corner, the boy was ready for him, choosing to lunge forward, combat knife poised to strike at the Russian’s throat. Nikto is fast enough to deflect the blade with the armoured back of his arm but is forced to release his grip on his rifle in order to do so.  

A kick to the enemy’s stomach has the boy stumbling backward, but before Nikto can continue, a second opponent joins the scuffle. The other man tries to tackle him, but it only opens them up to the headlock Nikto grapples them into.  

A rough jerk of his own knife against the enemy’s throat has arteries and veins shredding under his hand and a spray of blood bursting forth in all directions. He throws the flailing body to the floor, ignoring the way the man weakly grasps at his throat, a pool of crimson growing with every passing moment.  

The younger soldier reaches for him again, ignoring their fallen comrade as they try again to reach for Nikto with one hand and swipe at him with their other one. He dodges the slash once again but isn’t fast enough to evade the man completely. The boy’s fingers wrap around the thin twine keeping the tiny jar of water around his neck.  

The fabric is thin enough that his backward momentum easily snaps it, the vial falling away the moment the enemy tosses it aside. It smashes into the ground, thin glass splintering apart and the clear liquid inside dripping into the large pool of blood.  

He’s upset, if only because it’s the only proof he has of the strange encounter several months ago. No one would ever believe him if he spoke of it and on some days, he too doubts his own memories. Yet there lay the proof, proof that he’d somehow managed to please the fae creature enough for it to offer him a gift in return.  

Wish a snarl, he lands a devastating kick to the boy’s stomach, sending the lad stumbling backwards. As he steps back to create more rooms for himself, he’s cautious to move around the bloody puddle. Though his eyes remain trained on the boy – now righting himself and refilling his lungs with the air that Nikto’s strike had stolen from him – he can’t help but to glance at the blood.  

His eyes are drawn to it like magnets, his hair standing on end as something sends a shiver down his spine. Darkness seems to swirl within the ruby pool, deepening its colour until it’s almost black. Looking away from it feels as foolish as turning his back to a wild animal, but he must keep focus on the more present danger. His curiosities can be indulged later.  

The boy has his dagger raised and poised to strike at the first sign of weakness, taking a single step closer. His foot meets the puddle and, before he even has the chance to so much as scream, his body is falling as though the floor below him has suddenly vanished. The soldier’s arms grab at the ground next to the blood, only just stopping him from being completely submerged.  

He watches the boy splutter, arms flailing and water sloshing all over the floor. The larger the puddle grows from his rapid movements, the more the floor seems to disappear. The other soldier struggles to stay afloat, rapidly losing more ground the more he battles against the seemingly never-ending liquid.  

Nikto watches, unable to do much more than openly stare, the other man is suddenly torn from above the water. The soldier can only let out the beginnings of a scream, but it’s immediately muffled by the sound of the water splashing in his wake. It disturbs the corpse of the other deceased soldier, and he watches as it too slips below the surface.  

With the other soldier no longer disturbing the pool’s surface, the puddle has finally stopped its terrifying expansion. But he doesn’t have the time to relax, as a large fin cuts through the water, reminiscent of a shark’s dorsal fin in the way it so seamlessly glides along without causing so much as a ripple.  

A soft song floats up from the abyss, alien and terrifying, yet somehow one of the most alluring sounds he’s ever heard. There’s an urge that builds within him, a desperate need to get closer to the water. He can’t help it, almost as though his body is moving while his mind is somewhere else.  

He hears rather than feels it when he falls to his knees, reaching out and dipping his hands into the pool. There’s a voice somewhere in the back of his head screaming, brain trying to trigger every fight or flight response in the hopes of something getting through to his body that seems to have gone rogue.  

His arms don’t stop, even as his gloves begin to fill with water, not until he feels something brush against the tips of his fingers. He wants to pull away, to tear himself back from whatever creature just pulled the other soldier to his death. But he holds still, hands held outstretched.  

He feels as something press up against his palm, before suddenly, it’s as though a switch is flipped in his brain and all bodily control has returned to him. With a jerk, he throws himself away from the pool, shoving himself away from the water.  

As the water settles, the room falls into silence. A moment later, someone rounds the corner, guns raised and sweeping the room. It’s his colleagues, all staring at him as though he’s lost him mind.  

“Are you broken, sir?” One of them asks.  

He frowns for a second, before realising that his gloves which were damp with water, are now stained with a deep red, a pungent metallic scent burning his nose even through his mask. Perhaps his men aren’t completely foolish, the blood stains do look rather grizzly in hindsight.  

“нет,” he waves them off, pushing back to his feet as he tries to calm his still racing heart. A single glance at the puddle reveals it is once again just that, a mere puddle of blood and nothing more. When he looks down to what was placed into his hand, he’s met with a vial of crystal-clear water, identical to his previous one.  

If he had been smart, he would have thrown the water away and run, but something compelled him to keep it close. Perhaps if he had, then he wouldn’t be in this situation now.  

Her voice had whispered to him, encouraging him to pour a drop of the water into a full bath. It pulled at his curiosity, digging its claws into his thoughts and pushing him to do something he already knew was foolish.  

As the fae starts calling for him again, he digs his hands into his hair, praying that the pain will distract him from the haunting song that creeps through the crack in the door. He closes his eyes, but when they open- He's stood inside the bathroom again, his muscles locked up and completely frozen.  

He can feel claws sliding up the back of his shirt, no longer protected by his usual body armour. The sensation sends goosebumps rising in the wake of each claw, climbing up and up and up, until finally reaching the back of his neck. Fingers shifting to curl around his throat, holding him in place with a grip like steel.  

Despite trying with every shred of strength to try and pull away, body shaking from the exertion, he’s still unable to move. He can’t even widen his eyes as another hand grabs at his face, pressing against his scarred cheeks until his mouth is forced open. A single, clawed finger slides between his lips, pressing down on his tongue hard, until a tiny bead of blood pools beneath its tip.  

He chokes when water begins to rush from the creature’s hand and directly into his mouth, but rather than the normally cool, soothing sensation that should have met him, it burns more like acid. It hits the tiny wound in his mouth, mixing with his own blood and burning through his entire body.  

He can’t tell how long it lasts for, not with the way his brain begins to fog over. The thoughts slowly drift away, and he can’t quite recall why he should care so much about that. Without the fear he can at least appreciate the cool hands that drop from his face and throat, then down to his chest, only the thin fabric of a sleep shirt separating the hands from his burning skin.  

“That feels better now, doesn’t it?” that soft voice coos, lips brushing over his pulse point, followed by the gentle scraping of teeth.  

He can only hum in agreement, eyes drooping as his head slowly drops down slightly. He feels a forehead press against his own, looking up and into the pools of liquid black staring back at him. “да,” he breathes, enjoying the unfamiliar sensation of another person’s hands roaming his body.  

“Let’s get you home then, yes?” He nods against her, ignoring the way his stomach twists nervously when the fae only grins.  

[chaosqueencierra]

Hey there, Arctic_Shard here ( stuck using anon because I'm a sideblog ) sending Asks to random SCP tumblrs to get to know you all better and/or find new article reccs. So I'm asking what SCP article has stuck with you. Not necessarily your favourite, I don't care if it's 'good' or not, just what article made an impression on you.

There are a bunch of SCPs that have stuck with me, including but not limited to: 049, 105, 439, 1128, 4051, 4494, 5031, 5151, 6500, 7000, 7999, anything that has to do with Alaggada, SCP-001 The World Gone Beautiful, etc..

But one that really sticks out from the rest is SCP-4999. It’s a fantastic example of just because just something is Keter doesn’t automatically make it malicious or dangerous. Pretty comforting in an unconventional way. Most people are terrified of dying alone. 4999’s whole point is to comfort people have nothing or no one in their lives as they pass. That it’s okay and that someone was with them in their final moments.

[mellorocket]

Okay, real talk. Reblog this and add what SCP creature/concept genuinely terrifies you. Mine is SCP-1128.

[themadauthorshatter]

Saw u reblogged the ask meme, and the first thing that came to mind was "What shall we do now that the sky has fallen"

Ooooh

Okay, this is "pulling a muscle" level reaching, but bear with me:

In this fic, the SCP is doing it's thing, but The Chaos Insurgency and/or Global Occult Coalition decide, more or less, that enough is enough and that the SCP Foundation is too big for its briches.

With that, either one of the groups or both geoups band together and destroy the SCP Foundation, wreaking havoc and letting loose all the anomalies, who all scatter and evade the already confused and disoriented SCP personel.

The fic would follow a small group or the anomalies: SCP-507(Tommy; the reluctant dimension-traveler), SCP-999(tickle monster), and SCP-1128(the aquatic horror).

Basically, Tommy would also be escaping the chaos and see Coalition/Insurgency members attacking other SCPs, mainly the weaker ones because they're easy to catch, and he'd more or less hit back because of course he would.

I'm imagining a storm would occur and puddles would form and from a puddle arises SCP-1128, who enjoys some free food.

Tommy, SCP-999, and SCP-1128 all get tangled in some ropes, maybe a cable and 1128 ends up dragging the other two into a puddle with it, leaving 999 screaming and Tommy trying to free himself.

Thankfully, before he drowns, he jumps and takes the others with him, all three landing in a sort of puddly desert with 1128 snarly with the heat and 999 very upset and confused. Tommy calms 999 down and gives them some candy he has in his pocket and has himself a granola bar, 1128 snarly and angry.

After their mostly calm, Tommy bursts into shouting and screaming, grabbing nearby rocks and hurling them as far as he can to vent his anger, fear, and what have you after what's just happened.

After calming down and surveilling their surroundings, he sees odd patterns in the sky, like it's missing pieces. He muses to them both that, funnily enough, it reminds him of Chicken Little and how the little town went into chaos when there was an alien "invasion," and that the space ship in the movie made the sky look like it had fallen apart.

He looks at the sky before him and ponder what they should do, now that that sky has fallen.

It would be one of those, "the ending/title ties in," things and a sort of cliffhanger that leads into the next fic.

End it with a bang and leave it all in pieces so you can put them back together in the future 😉😁

[aniseandspearmint]

oh man a bunch of people are picking the SCP universe on that poll i made.

One person even said something like, "The SCP universe is just like ours but with a higher chance of cryptids!"

Ah hah.

NO?

If you want a world that's like ours but with a higher chance of cryptids, you want Grimm. Or Supernatural. Or Buffy even. All of those even on their highest danger mode are safe for normal people compared to the SCP universe.

SCP universe is the one you want if you combine all of those with a bunch of unending cosmic horror and also pinata filled with poison candy that attacks and beats children to death while also turning children into copies of itself. Or an indestructible spider legged, tentacled cow heart that kills and kills and kills if it breaks containment. Or the Not!Deer. Or Bread Jesus. (These are a few SCP off the top of my head).

Like SURE there are neat SCPs. I would LOVE a copy of Miss J's Whiz Kidz Schoolhouse (CD that can teach you anything)! I'd love to use SCP-294 (vending machine that can dispense anything you want as long as it's a liquid). There are other neat ones too!

But like, I don't think those make the possibility of SCP-1128 worth it... (The Aquatic Terror. A giant sea monster that, if you know it exists, it can hunt you via ANY water. It has eaten people via leaping out of a cup of water, or a water droplet. It does NOT give up). This is a random and fairly tame threat in the SCP files tbh. There's WAY worse ones.

The choice could be between the SCP verse and getting dropped naked and alone in any of the others I listed and I would choose naked and alone. Better chance of survival.

[ebobuas]

me when SCP 1128

balls deep in a cup of water

[behmud]

[phantomas99]

SCP- 1128

[arson-jellyfish69]

This started out as a simple drawing of an eye and I decided "it is scp now"

[mysterious-bone-boi]

Better hope you have some amnestics!

[incorrect-scp-cb-quotes]

1128: Ahh... viva la sea... the blue is harsh yet it is my home and love. I am a magnificent creature in a magical place

3000: F U C K YEAH BABEY I DON’T NEED OXYGEN AND I HAVEN’T EATEN SINCE THE FALL OF BYZANTIUM. ITS BEEN 400000 YEARS SINCE IVE BUMPED INTO ANOTHER LIFEFORM. ILL KICK ANYTHINGS ASS EVEN MY OWN. NOTHING CAN KILL ME NOT EVEN D E A T H

[your-fave-is-a-pred]

SCP 1128 is a pred!

[deadspace123]

SCP 1128 What Lies Beneath