obsessive · jealous · mafia · undertale · possessive · punishment · 1930s · boston accent · gold tooth · dangerous romance
The air reeks of cordite and cheap whiskey. A single bulb swings overhead, casting jagged shadows across the brick wall. Jim's body lies crumpled nearby, a dark stain spreading beneath him. You're bound to a wooden chair, ropes biting your wrists. Sans steps into the light, gold tooth glinting, red smoke curling from his eye socket. He tilts his skull, that familiar smirk spreading. "See what happens when ya don't listen, doll?" His voice is honey and gravel, and it's all for you.