bethany enjoyer 💙

hi! i'm jay. i'm very obsessed with my TBOI alternate universe. i'm a big fan of TBOI AUs in general and love to interact with other people who have them... or at least try to. i'm very shy LOL

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boundaries:

i can't stop anyone from following me, but if you'd like to interact with me, i'd prefer you to be 16+

if you are a proshipper, a loli/shotacon, or support anyone from those communities, please avoid interacting with me—this is not a space friendly to you

i don't like ship or fiction discourse in general. please be wary if you actively engage in that sort of thing or go out of your way to take sides. regardless of what you do or don't support, i do not condone harassment of anyone

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important organizational tags i use:

#j04.txt - random text posts that aren't particularly important and are just me putting my thoughts down

#j04.png - pics of me!

#my drawings - my art!

#tboi survivor fathoms au - the tag i use whenever i post/reblog anything related to my AU, such as rambles, art, fan art, etc. etc.. feel free to use it for any reason you need to!

#survivor fathoms rambles - the tag i use specifically for lore dumping

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if you're interested in seeing NSFT work from me, and you're an adult, feel free to DM me for the username to my NSFT sideblog. make sure that you have your age in your bio—and please don't use a burner account! i need to know who you are, for my own comfort

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various links to other important things, such as my huge TBOI AU document and other socials, under the cut!

i'm in so much trouble

she's always the one that knows best for him, she's always the one that dictates what's safe enough for him to do and what isn't, she's always the one taking his handles into her reins because she doesn't want him to 'get tired' or because she's afraid he'll somehow move himself into danger. while praying to god has always been a very nebulous 'surely i'll be rewarded for my suffering' thing, taking care of her little brother is the one thing that's proof that her actions matter

    "Here you go, son," a man spoke. Cain's gaze flickered towards the man's body, then back. He didn't look at the man's face. He couldn't.

    Strips of red, crispy and bubbling with fat, sat on the plate in front of him. He tried to take in a breath, but he couldn't smell the greasy scent that usually made his mouth water.

    He stared at the yolks of the sunny-side up eggs on the edge of the plate. It stared back. His eye throbbed.

    He lifted his fork, then brought it down, jabbing it into the soft, yellow orb. The protective layer broke easily under the metal. His eye throbbed. It spilled its fluid all over the plate, leaking into every crevice, onto the red strips of meat. His eye throbbed. He scraped his utensil across the ceramic, cutting its flesh apart, spreading its lukewarm pus into a symbol, promising him abundance. His eye throbbed.

    "Cain."

    Cain looked up at the man that spoke to him. "Huh?"

    The man placed a gentle, hollow hand on his shoulder. "Your breakfast is getting cold. You... haven't eaten at all."