felix-lupin

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One legitimately weird thing about Tumblr is that we literally can’t code for shit, many people quit working at Tumblr due to a hostile work environment, and we can’t seem to program a simple blogging website to not flood your RAM.

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"Every social media app has Elvis impersonators" is a statistical error, Tumblr Georg, who lives in a cave and has 1000000 Elvi was an outlier and should not have been counted

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annual reminder that santa claus is an avatar of the Eye

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seems like black trans people are only thrown on the back burner until it's time to use our existence in an argument and then talk over us until we get hate-crimed and killed and then #saytheirname and cycle repeat!

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hey don't cry. 7,401 species of frog in the world, ok?

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Here I am, posting something similar like the fibro post... this one goes out to my psychotic folks🫶

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ID: A screenshot from the MAG 3 transcript, with the words "hell, I even saw him freak out over an ice-cream truck once" highlighted

I wonder if this was intentional or just a coincidence

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sometimes all you need is the least amount of weasel

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Making ME feel like I should be scared of drowning and avoiding bodies of water with that description of drowning there sif. 10/10

His mind is a house with too many locked doors, and the ones that swing open do so with violence. He fears the version of himself that might one day emerge—something not quite him, but wearing his face

I love the description & imagery here by the way. eats it eats it eats it

Agghhhh not the fear of death but almost the fear of a complete lack of it,,, or at least a fear that your consciousness will never fade, that the only thing death has a possibility to be is a drifting, waiting void... so valid though like agh what??

Ooo,,, not loud breakdowns but rather just,,, quiet disappearances, ones that on their surface could almost look normal -- an 'out sick' email wouldnt be too unusual after all, except for the fact that no one authorized it, but im sure even that could be explained away

Op the typical SCP redacted words (not sure what they're actually colloquially called in the community tbh) 👀

awful awful not even allowed to die,, just because of "her pride won't allow it" even if it looks like she might consider it were that pride not there,

In his concrete room. Listening to the voices arguing over whether or not he deserves this.

oh you REALLY weren't kidding when you said he's like if siffrin merged with the soul c4 huh

She always watches him a little too closely afterward. As if she’s counting how many more times he can come back before there’s nothing left of him to return.

Stares at this stares at this stares at this stares at this

as always i am insane about this sif i WILL be eating your OCs. blows them up and then eats the bits <2

fear and/or break for Reno for the OC asks? :3

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

this is a bit of a hard one to pin down, so here's his top three.

Reno is afraid of drowning. Not just water, not just suffocating—but drowning: slow, disorienting, inevitable. It’s the kind of death that happens without drama. You thrash, you fail, and then you just stop existing, but not before your lungs beg to rupture and your body convulses into silence. That fear sticks with him, primal and embedded in his spine. He avoids pools, lakes, even bathtubs. He can’t explain why it feels worse than other deaths—he’s died a thousand ways, after all—but water gets inside you. And maybe, deep down, he’s terrified it’ll be the one thing that finds a way to stick. No matter how much he wants to die, he doesn't want to go out like that.

His second fear is more abstract: his own identity. Or more precisely, the lack of one. He’s not Reno Marks. That much he knows—he isn’t even the first version of himself. He’s a mosaic of erased people, a dozen lives with no endings. Each time he dies, it’s not just his body that resets—it’s a chance for the Foundation to meddle again, to trim a little memory here, patch over a thought there. His mind is a house with too many locked doors, and the ones that swing open do so with violence. He fears the version of himself that might one day emerge—something not quite him, but wearing his face. He's scared it already has; the ghosts of himself haunting him without an end in sight.

The third fear is the worst: the possibility that he will never truly die. That his loop is endless. That the void he drifts through between deaths is all that waits. He’s seen it for weeks at a time—a place without time or thought, only sensation. Cold. Floaty. Waiting. And when he comes back, it’s with a body scrubbed clean and a mind screaming louder than it was before. The idea that there might never be peace—not even in death—is something he doesn’t talk about. Not to Ellis. Not even to himself, unless he's three drinks deep and alone in the dark.

So he hides it. All of it. Buries it under sarcasm, under eccentric humor, under silence, under a hundred recorded audio memos he deletes immediately after. If someone asks, he just shrugs and says, “It’s hard to be scared of death when you’ve memorized the script.” But his eyes betray him. Always.

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

When Reno breaks, he does so quietly. Or rather, it always starts quietly. No slammed doors. No arguments. No breakdown in the middle of a testing room. Just… absence. An email marked “Out Sick” that no one authorized. A missed check-in. Then two. Then six. Then someone goes to his room and finds it locked from the inside, and every reflective surface shattered. Again.

The trigger is usually nothing dramatic. Sometimes it’s just a dislocated joint he put off far too long. A particularly cruel hallucination wearing his own face. A joke made by a junior researcher who doesn’t realize that asking "What do you do here, anyway?" is enough to unravel months of thin-threaded sanity.

And then the cycle starts. He has his methods down to a routine now. Gas, bleach, electrical shock, a modified SCP-██ syringe he stole from the medical ward two months ago. Every method is a test. Every test is a failure. Because no matter what he does, he wakes up on the floor, or in bed, or slumped over the toilet, the taste of vomit and blood in his mouth but his body completely unscathed. Back in the body from the day before, with a new voice in his head whispering that he's weak for even trying.

Eventually, he shows up in Dr. Marino’s lab.

Not calmly. Not politely. He begs. Loudly. On his knees. In front of junior staff. “Please kill me. Please. I’m not a person. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m a fucking mistake. Just—just euthanize me. Like a sick dog. Please, Ellie.”

She doesn’t. She can’t. Her pride won’t allow it, even if her face looks like maybe she’d consider it just to give him peace, like she hadn't gone through something similar a thousand times over. So instead, she orders a lockdown. Has him dragged back to his quarters. Reinforced walls. No sharp objects. No sheets on the bed.

He keeps trying anyway. For days. Maybe weeks. He loses track. The suicide attempts get less creative. Less desperate. Eventually he doesn’t get up from the floor. He just lays there. In his concrete room. Listening to the voices arguing over whether or not he deserves this.

And then one day he walks out. Quiet. Shaved. Cleaned up. As if nothing happened. And nobody talks about it, because that’s how the Foundation survives.

Except Marino.

She always watches him a little too closely afterward. As if she’s counting how many more times he can come back before there’s nothing left of him to return.

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Flower for you!

After enough loops, the party can explore the town before Siffrin wakes up

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"Dangerous"

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my friend hates her mother's evil cat so much and wants him to die and im just now finding out his name is tubby pumpkin 😭 like bro why do u have beef with tubby pumpkin

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Why the official page post this though

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i made this version of that popular cake meme as a love letter to my favourite artists, writers, editors etc who keep making content about my favourite characters/ship

ermm

I LOVE YALL!!!!!!!!