Foundation Task Force 141 X Afab! Reader

Foundation Task Force 141 x Afab! Reader

TW: Mention of death

The building is a reck. Thick metal doors were crumbling like paper. The lights flicker on and off others broken. Deep slashes carve through the thick concrete walls. The metal support rods bent out of the concrete. Pools of water sock blood pooled on the ground.

The bodies of occultist and their rich followers all littered the ground. Like discarded broken wooden dolls left to be forgotten. Many of the dead had large slashes and missing limbs.

You look down at your fellow researchers and guards you once laughed with. You pull out a cigarette and light it. You take out a long drag of the cigarette letting the toxic smoke dance across your tongue and down your throat. It fills your body and a wash of calm sets in for you.

You swing your lanyard around her pointer finger the bright pink lanyard swings healing with all the keys you have on it. Attach to your pristine bright blouse was her ID card pinned to your chest. Your high-heeled boots click loudly in the silence of the hall.

What a mess.

You stop at the main office and open it with your ID. There slumped over in his desk the head occultist— the fool decided death was more lenient than reprimanded by the council. You walk in and pick up all the files, put them into the metal trash can, and take one last puff of the cigarette. You drop the cigarette on the paper, light a match, and drop it into the trash can.

You turn around and whistle a tone as you leave, your footsteps your metronome. You take off your sunglasses and look at the growing crowd of reporters, military men, and random curious civilians. You look over to the SCP task force leader. You give him a curt nod and he begins to calm the crowd.

“We want an answer,” you look over to see a group of military men being held back by the SCP special forces. Your eyes rake them over, special forces… from the UK… working with the CIA— outsiders.

“You,” you look over at them hands in your white lab coat pocket. You waltz over. “What’s going on?” He asked his strong… Scottish accent sounded harsh and angry.

“Sir please back down our men are—”

“What right does your company have to take our missions,” another man steps force. His mustache transfers into his beard, bucket hat is low on his head. He glared holes into you. You sigh pull out another cigarette and light it. You calmly look up at them.

You could tell from the way he was standing he was trying to intimidate you. You touch a guard on his shoulder and he steps aside for you. You get into his face and blow out the smoke.

“What write do you have?” You ask cigarette held in your head. His face reddens and rage seems to boil under his skin.

“We are part of the task force for this mission— what jurisdictions do you have?” The man asks back. You push your hair out of your face a vein pops in your neck.

“The CIA— the FBI— this fucking government. You’re not from here— you have no jurisdiction here, foreigner.” You spat out. This is America, not the UK they have no rights— then again even if they were Americans they still wouldn't have any rights.

This is the foundation concern.

“Ma’am,” you turn around to see the task force leader walking up to you.

“You have a call.”

“From who?” You take the phone.

“This is Kate Laswell from the CIA—”

“What does the feds want?” You ask annoyance seeping into your tone.

“My men, need to be a part of this.”

“Why?”

“This is the third foundation breach we want our men in this investigation,” you purse your lips.

“Have they been debriefed?” You sigh and take another drag of your cigarette.

“Not yet—”

“Debrief them, have them sign the papers, and then I’ll let them in, until then they stay out.” You hang up the phone, hand it over back to the Captain, and turn to the four military men.

“Your handler called,” you tell the bucket hat man, “you have a debriefing to go to.”

You turn away and begin walking away. In the corner of your eyes, a black car pulled in, the CIA is one fast organization. You watch as all four men enter the car. You wonder which ones will join you— their fate is entirely in your hands.

“Alright,” you look at the extraction and tracker teams, “let’s find these runaway anomalies.” They all solute you and begin to March into the forest.

This place was a former military holding cell turned into a private hospital by a group of rich fools. They thought they knew what they were doing— fools.

You walk to the crowd they whisper, “Everybody,” you call out, “Please back out this place is still an active dangerous zone.”

“What happened?” A reporter yells.

“One mentally ill patient got ahold of a gun and created a massacre, then damaged the pipes. Theirs a gas leak, go home.” You lie to them. You lie as easily as you breathe lying is expected for this line of work.

“What are the military forces?”

“The patient is still loose this place is for the criminally insane their dangerous psychotic people out there, I advise you all to go home, lock your doors, and stay inside.” You instruct.

The few civilians quickly begin to walk off getting into cars and going one. The situation is dire. The media on the other hand— they think their invincible.

“Can we get more answers?”

“Relax, you’ll know as soon as we know.” You tell them fighting the urge to roll your eyes. They mumbled but slowly despised but a few did stay.

You turn to the police and give them a curt nod. They were no ordinary Police officers but a SCP informant. The police push towards and tell the media to go home there’s nothing to see.

***

Task Force 141 walked into the empty conference room. Soon Laswell walks in, her face stiff and serious. She set four different files down and silently slid the files to each of them.

“What you will learn here means you entering a world of utter confidentiality, do you understand?”

“Kate, what is going on?” Price gruffly asks.

“John, what— what you are about to know means you can not back out without your memory wiped.”

“Kate—”

“I need you all to promise me.” They turn to each other. Ghost stayed silent and watched intently, Gaz sent a glance at the Soap before looking at Price. Laswell’s strange behavior was off-putting.

“We— we promise.” Laswell sighs and gestures to them to open the files.

“That woman— isn’t a woman. She's an SCP and she’s a part of the SCP foundation.”

----

1.1K

COD CRACKFIC idea

I was messing with character ai and found a you are transported to COD world. I have a really dumb idea that's just pure crack wold anyone like me to write it?

Here

Considering actually making a fic about monster 141 and human conflict, it’s been haunting me would anyone be interested? Should I post it on ao3?

Task Force 141 x Genz Gn Reader

Stupid idea I'm gonna call the series: Madness from Another Dimension (MAD)

TW: Mention of death

It was an accident. Honest to god a full-on accident. One minute you are walking the next fall from the sky. You hit the ground kinda hard and look around. A few people stared at you nearly as shocked as you. You were instantly grabbed and dragged into a building.

You looked around and immediately began to smile uncontrollably. Price was standing right in front of you and so was Soap. Your heart begins to accelerate with joy.

“Who the fuck are you?” They ask aggressively. “How did you get here?” You stare at them, and a nagging question hits you like a truck you had to know.

“Shepard is he Bold or has a mustache?” You yell frantically. He stared at you dumbfoundedly.

“Answer—”

“ANSWER ME! BOLD OR MUSTACHE??”

“Bold.”

“Is Gaz’s black?”

“How do you know him!” Price points his gun at you.

“IS HE?”

“Yes!”

“OH THANK GOD!” You shout collapsing onto your knees and laying on the ground your anxiety settling. “He’s bold this is fantastic!” You cheer.

“What happened if he had a mustache and Gaz wasn’t black?” Soap asked seeing your excitement in a weird light.

“I would have cried!” You state look at him.

“Why would a mustache make you cry?” Soap asked squatting down next to you so confused.

Your mouth falls open— you had so many things to say. Where do you begin? How do you begin? You didn’t want to die! You haven’t seen Ghost in person yet! You had to hear his sexy voice in person!

“Let’s start from the beginning.” You wave your hand around. Price folds his arm waiting.

“I was walking home and fell out of the sky and here I am.”

“Love that’s bullshit.”

“Mofo I locked eyes with a motherfucker, he saw me fall and go out there, he can confirm it!” You yell.

“Two, I think I’m from another dimension.” The two stared at you and then turned to each other.

“Your fucking crazy,” Price snaps grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to a room and shoving you inside. “You are under confinement by the military.”

“Well….” A few hours pass you and where terribly bored Soap took your phone without you even noticing. Your mind races around, how did you even get here?

The door opens and four people step inside. You felt yourself smirking and tried to swallow that smile. You look down, all of them are here. How fun.

“Hello, John Price, Johnny MacTavish, Kyle Garrick, and lastly the famous Ghost— Simon Riley—”

“How do you know our fucking names?” Ghost barks, you feel a shiver run down your spine, and smile uncontrollably again.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Nothing—” you hunch over cackling, you really need to get your nervous laughter under control.

“Tell is!” Price snaps his irritation visible.

“It’s just… your video game characters for me. from my world.”

“You are insane—”

“Kyle you joined the British army in 2014, Ghost joined after 9/11, Soap you met Price in 2014. Am I wrong?” You ask them getting serious, and they look at each other.

“Alright say you are from another world and we are video game characters to you, why does it matter if General Shepard has a mustache or not?” Soap folds his arms still hung up on your lash out.

“Simply I needed to know what timeline I was in.”

“Alright you are crazy,” Price growls storming up to you.

“The game you are part of is called Call of Duty, it’s a point-and-shoot game made for boys and men. It is all about war and the military. There was the original timeline and the reboot, I had to know which one.” Soap touched Price's shoulders and pulled him back. He was probably the best to ask questions.

“Alright, which timeline are we in?” Soap looks down on you, with cold eyes that turn you on.

“The reboot.”

“You preferred the reboot—”

“You all died in the original timeline.” Your words shut them up. They had this look of shock. They turn to each other, maybe you are crazy you seem crazy. They had nothing to say.

“What does this have to do with his mustache—”

“It’s how I associate things in my mind.” Soap slowly nods, a weird association but he got it. He also has particular associations, this was yours.

“One I ask if Gaz was black because in the other timeline he was white?”

“I WAS WHITE?” Gaz yells shock written all over his face. He looked shocked and bewildered. His mouth hung open and he looked pale.

“YOU WERE WHITE AND THAT TURN ME FOR THE LOOP!” You yell back feeling the hype again. “You were also a background character, not really important.”

“You were killed right in front of a helpless Soap.”

“I—”

“Ghost you were shot from point-blank range and your body burned, you were betrayed. I miss you, Roach.” Ghost reached his hand out— he needed clarification.

“Soap dies in your hands Price and you were severely injured. and implied died from it”

“Wait wait wait!” Soap interrupts “Let’s go back to Gaz, I watched him die?”

“Yes.” Soap turns to Gaz who looks back there is shock in their eyes. They seem to share a little moment together.

“You said I was betrayed, who?” Ghost asks next.

“You should sit down,” you comment. This Ghost was less trusting or maybe the same as the old Ghost but it’s best if he sits.

“I’m fine,”

“Ok.” You stand up and look him in the eyes, “You were with a comrade who’s not in this reboot called Roach. He was shot in the chest and you were shot in the head.” You explain calmly.

“By who?” Ghost demands again.

“General Shepard.” The room grew dead quiet. Ghost uncrossed his arms in shock.

“Also in that timeline, I think World War 3 happens.” You casually state.

“You think?” Soap snap.

“I never played the original one, but I remember my brother’s behavior after, he was mourning.”

“What happened to the general after he killed me?” Ghost quietly asked.

“Soap stabbed in in the left eye killing him.” Ghost nods his head, at least his killer died.

“You said Soap dies in my arms, how.”

“Severe blood loss acting getting majorly injured for the 3rd time.”

“Man, that’s…”

“Lame?” You finish Soap’s words he nods and looks a little disappointed.

“Price continues on the mission but at the end, he is implied to be dead. He died smoking a cigar.” Soap and Gaz chuckle and turn to Price.

“Who killed me?” Price asks.

“Russian terrorist.”

“Alright… this timeline who dies.” Soap folds his arms ready to hear the most gut-wrenching stuff.

“None of you died.” Soap let out a long sigh and turned to the others with a smile. Gaz nods his head in a sigh of relief. “But that shouldn’t make you too happy don’t get careless.”

“How do we believe you?” Price finally spoke up. You look around, At the start of the game, all of them have known each other for a long.

“I know you found American missiles with a terrorist group.” The air turns hostile, how do you know this?.”

“Your next stop is Amsterdam… say hi to Alejandro for me.” You smile and sit back down leaning back with a smile.

“If you know the future, tell us!”

“Go to Amsterdam I don’t remember the cartel but the next place after Amsterdam is Mexico. I’m telling the truth if you don’t believe me go. I can't give you all the information I don’t remember but I can tell you the major plot points. Come back when you're done.”

They turn back to you before leaving. As the door closes you collapse onto the bed and begin to giggle, you’re living the high life. Hot military men all around you. Ghost even talked to you that’s all that matters. They will be back, of course, they come back. They need to know more and you can enlighten them.

---------

1.2K

Kinda tempted to do CoD monster au

Stupid idea

Would anyone be interested in a fic where Konig falls in love with a science experiment who's the mother of monsters?