[⚠️ 18+ blog warning: I post/share suggestive/mature content at random. ⚠️] Welcome! I mostly just like a bunch of cool art posts and then do random follow sprees on occasion, when I've hoarded enough amazing artists for it. Imagine a tiny dragon on top of a big pile of art instead of gold, if you will. Also, I write fanfiction, I guess. Current obsession is Tenna, as you can see. • Other Accounts: https://jamieorjames.carrd.co/ • 25 (aka: ancient) • he/him • latino • officer worker • mediocre writer • fluff and slow burn specialist • romcom aficionado ❤️💜💙 • (Profile Image Credit: James from Pokémon) • (Background Image Credit: miranda-mundt-art on Tumblr) • (Old Account: JuniperJoy101)
I think he's cool! A tad too on the grumpy side for my tastes to be a personal favourite, but he's still pretty interesting and fun to read and write about. 😊
Currently have 2 out of 10 chapters written out for a Null Tenna/Reader fic, but I don't plan on posting it until late September/early October of this year. When I do, though, it's gonna have a sweet resolution and a happy ending, just like my other Tenna/Reader fics!
I CANT FIND FEM TENNA X READERS ANYWHERE IVE READ THEM ALL😭😭😭😭will you write more fem tenna at all?🥹✌️love ur writing
Same!! My yuri loving brain is itching for more Fem Tenna fics.
I have around five Wifey Tenna/Reader one shots planned for the future (to be posted on AO3), starting this August. Right now though, I'm focusing on completing two of my other Tenna/Reader stories!
And thank you very much!! I'm glad you like my writing. 🥰
In the future! Right now, I'm finishing up some longer Tenna/Reader fics on AO3, but I have at least five Wifey Tenna/Reader one shots planned out, starting this August. 😊
people having sympathy for tenna nearly murdering 3 teenagers (ONE OF WHOM HE HELPED RAISE, BTW) because he was having a manic episode and this agreeing that it isnt the same as somebody of sound mind trying to kill people…. but then deciding spamton holds full responsibility for trying to murder 3 teenagers (one of whom he just met and 2 he never saw before) during a texbook psychotic episode.
“i am compassionate towards ‘scary’ mental illness” you cant handle a homeless man talking to himself
(this isnt saying btw that having an episode excuses spamton of his actions, only that it should be kept in mind when discussing his behavior, as while mental illness cant force you to do things, it can cloud your judgement or influence your decision making. especially a mental illness that literally affects your perception of reality)
I know a lot of people try to defend his actions with "He didn't really want to kill them!! He just didn't want to die! He was desperate!" but like... that's just an explanation, never a justification
I remember made this a few weeks ago:
He was still hurting three teenagers for choosing the wrong answer while forcing them to do things they didn't want to do. All the while dismissing Kris's depression and making Kris relive their own traumas.
He was traping the Fun Gang to force them to say or do what he wants or he will physically hurt them.. this is still abuse! 😭 It doesn't matter if he had no malicious intent. He still did it!!
And the fact that he doesn't want to die makes me think a lot because... no character wants to die?? That's not unique to Tenna! It's a very valid fear, but it's not unique to him. Characters who seem to not care about this are clearly never seen as a positive thing, in fact it's very worrying.
Yes, he's desperate, but you know who was just as desperate as Tenna, but unlike Tenna, he also didn't even have a home anymore, proper food, or anyone to talk to? Spamton G. Spamton.
I think it was common consensus in the fandom that Spamton's tragic past doesn't justify his actions and is still very wrong, so I don't understand how some characters (I hate to make oppression olympics but let's be honest here, they've been through less than half the horrible things Spamton has been through) somehow get a free pass and all their past wrongdoings are fully justified instead of just being forgiven.
Some people were saying that Tenna has PTSD and was in a manic/meltdown episode, but... so is Spamton?? Bro was hallucinating an audience that he was praying for them and also begging them not to take his furniture! Many of these arguments also work for Spamton
And regarding the mental illness, Spamton had no support from anyone. He didn't have support from the Queen (you know, her job as queen is to take care of her people), he didn't have any friends he could trust, everyone saw him becoming a puppet and glitching and no one did anything and some deny that he exists or refuse to even mention him. He's been without any treatment or support for years.
Tenna has at least a few people he can talk to and offer some kind of support. But to be fair, none of them are doctors or psychologists, but having a shoulder to cry on would help a little. Or at least some basic darkners/lightners rights like a house food and an actual bed lol
I just have a feeling that people try to defend all of Tenna's actions (and it just makes worse lmao) because they want him to be this pure wholesome funny little guy because they're afraid of liking flawed characters so they try to defend the inexcusable or just pretend that's not what really happened in canon
And Spamton is helping the Fun Gang throughout the chapter, being their strength. He's taking responsibility for his past actions. And you know, also helping them to save the two worlds. While Tenna just wants to find a new family to be adopted like a dog instead of trying to talk to Kris or something (the person he called family!!!)
Why is it that the character who took the most responsibility for his actions and how he mistreated the Fun Gang is the one who is being the most villainized while all the other darkners who also did many wrong things and mistreated the Fun Gang are just chilling in Castle Town pretending that the end of the world isn't almost coming??
*rubs hands like a fly* I'm sooo looking forward to tackling this subject in writing! Glad to stumble across a post that scratches an itch I've had since playing Chapter 3.
I can't tell you how much your long Tenna x Reader fic has made me giggle so hard and made me have audible "WHATTT"!!!
I so so appreciate your work and dedication to the references, the love and just shown of special interests in this fic by far. ITS SO ASTONISHING!! It's inspired me to say fuck it and do some self indulgence art low-key .. AHHHH
Thank you for giving me something so tension-filled yet so cozy to read!!
Aw, that's very sweet!
Life can be challenging, so I've always aimed to make my fics feel like a breather of sorts by writing soft and silly and sweet and stupid moments — if that makes any sense.
Also, thank you very much! That's so nice of you!! The references, love, and special interests are all super fun to write, especially when combining them to create a fluffy scene that just about makes me want to write the entire rest of the fic in one go, lol. And nice, I'm glad it could inspire you, and I hope you have fun drawing what you're thinking of!
You're welcome!!! 'Tension-filled yet cozy'... I love the way you summarized it. ✨
The sheer polarity of the readers' reactions to Tenna's actions in chapters 11 and 12 of my Tenna/Reader fanfic The Sun Always Shines on TV is just so damn funny and charming to me...
Like, I did not think those two chapters would cause these totally opposite reactions, but at the same time... It makes sense???
So, in chapter 11, Tenna (spoilers) traps the reader in a gacha ball after the first date is over so they don't leave his room in Ralsei's Castle, and then in chapter 12 (more spoilers) the reader **kinda/sorta/maybe** forgives him after what he did, and...
Whaddya know, the readers' opinions divide like the parting of the Red Sea.
It's sending me. Like omg, I can't wait to post the next chapter!!!
...But alas, I must resist, in order to create enough buffer for consistent updates. 😭
Thank y'all for your comments, btw! It's stuff like this that makes my day and urges me to just... want to post the whole story at once, if I could. Take care. ❤️
Genuine question how the fuck am I supposed to ever in my life be normal about Tenna again after Toby Fox himself described him as a "giant, handsome, apron wearing older husband". How am I meant to recover from this and just go on with my life...? How are we as a society supposed to deal with this?
:0! You're the writer of my fave Tenna x reader fic! I left a couple comments on ao3, but lemme just say I've been really enjoying reading The Sun Always Shines on TV! It's so fun I've been having a blast reading ^w^ I even subscribed to get updated when the next chapter gets published! I hope you're having as much fun writing as we are reading, and thank you for sharing your work with us!
Aw, thank you for your comments! That's really sweet to know, and I'm glad you're looking forward to the next update. I've been having an absolute BLAST writing the story, and it's my pleasure to share it with others, too!! It's strange to think it started off as a one-shot, and now we're well into 7 chapters out of 28, haha! Hope you're doing well, and take care. 😊
tenna in ur "the sun always shines on tv" reminds me so much of the song "Somthin' Stupid" by frank & nancy sinatra
Oh. My. Goodness. Consider me speechless.
Thank you so much for reminding me of this song!
And oh honeyyy, I totally see your vision. It's a perfect fit, specifically the lyrics you mentioned in your other message.
I practice every day
To find some clever lines to say
To make the meaning come true
But then I think I'll wait
Until the evening gets late
And I'm alone with you
The time is right, your perfume fills my head
The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue
And then I go and spoil it all
By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"
I'm smiling like an idiot and internally squealing at your message! You've given me a LOT of ideas to work with, lol.
[Domestic Fluff, Comfort, and Humor; Rated Mature for Implied Sexual Content]
Summary
Bored in bed with a cold, you send a text to your wife, Mrs. Anne Tenna, joking about how you feel lonely and how you could really use her company right about now.
She takes it seriously and ends her show early, bursting through the door of your home to take care of you.
As soon as Tenna's show goes on commercial break, you sit up straight in bed, exit the livestream, and open the messaging app.
It's strange thinking back on how just a year ago, Tenna could only retain her Dark World form strictly to where it belonged, limiting her interactions with you in the Light World. She switched between channels to talk, and you got to know each other through simple questions she could answer through the limitations of whatever shows were broadcasted that day. And when you found a way to visit the Dark World without risking danger, you visited her as often as you could and became fast and close friends.
Now that she's living with you in the Light World, she's made it big as a full-time show host, and people all over the world asked her to create an online video channel to keep watching her.
She loves the attention, and you're incredibly happy for her, but in truth…
It does get a little lonely sometimes — especially times like these, where you're all by yourself at home after calling in sick to work.
“Ugh,” you groan, forehead throbbing. “This sucks.”
Although your temperature isn't going down, you've barely eaten anything since this morning, and you feel nauseous, it's nothing you can't endure or that requires a visit to a doctor.
So, bothering your wife while she's on break seems like a good way to distract yourself and spend the time without thinking too much about whether you'll be able to show up to work tomorrow or not.
When are you gonna be back home?
I feel sick and I miss you. :(
You accompany those messages with a low-quality picture of a teary-eyed grey cat looking at the viewer, smiling when you see Tenna instantly reads what you've sent.
\ | /
8>[^o]
Give me a moment, sweetie.
I'll be there soon!!!
Wait, no.
You don't have to!
Based on how Tenna goes offline without reading those last two messages, it appears you're already too late to clarify you were only playing around.
You exit the message app and log back into her livestream channel, body itching and hands sweating while you wait for it to load.
“Oh, geez,” you mutter, closing your eyes and bracing yourself with a breath. “Don't tell me, she—”
Upbeat jazz music cuts off your wishes, and you look at the phone to see ‘TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES’ on the screen, with people on the livestream texting their worries about what happened.
A ten-minute countdown pops up right below the message, and the chat blows up with assumptions about what will happen when it reaches zero.
“Damn it,” you mutter, locking the phone to set it on your bedside table and drag yourself out of bed. “How did it get to this?”
Guilt makes the nausea you distracted yourself from return twice as strongly, and the headache turns worse, stinging and aching as if you've collided with a cement wall.
You bring a hand to your forehead, musing over how you can apologize, until…
You hear a muffled door slam from afar (presumably, the entrance of your home).
“Cutiepie!”
The familiar voice of the same woman you're worried about sounds nearby, and the bedroom doorknob starts twisting and turning.
“Worry no more. I’m here!”
Followed by that shout is Tenna bursting through the door, her once pristine show host clothes made a mess from presumably running all the way here.
Her tie is undone, her suit jacket's buttons are unlatched until the last one, and her shirt is wrinkled and tucked out halfway from her pencil skirt. She has her heeled boots held out in one hand, and a big paper bag filled with all sorts of things in the other. The part of her usual attire that remains intact is her bright red lipstick, and that’s because you went out of your way one day to help her test all the lipsticks she owned, to see which was best for kissing and which for working.
One fateful Saturday morning, she tested each and every shade all over your face — forehead, both cheeks, nose, chin, and of course, lips — after you smartly suggested she could use you as her test subject, instead of resorting to paper.
It lasted an hour or maybe two (you weren't exactly… counting), and you had to vigorously scrub your face clean when she was finished, yet you didn't mind at all.
After all, it was a very serious matter, and you wanted to be there to support her.
“Sorry it took a while, dear,” she says, after she's cooled down and caught her breath. “There weren't any buses at this hour, so I had to improvise!”
‘Get Well Soon’ contents poke out from the bag she tries to stabilize under an arm, revealing her crew had gone out of their way to make stuff for you during the time she was at work.
And, knowing her, she had talked her crew's ears off this morning about her situation, likely sharing details all about how her spouse stayed sick at home and how she's worried about them.
Which means that she no doubt had everything planned out and prepped ahead of time, and that you shouldn't feel so guilty about it, but…
A-choo!
You cover your face with an elbow and let out a fit of sneezes.
“What's wrong?!”
It's unavoidable not to feel guilty about this, with how concerned she sounds and the huge sprint she gave to arrive home.
“I knew I shouldn't have gone to work today!”
She sets the bag on your shared dresser, then the boots in the closet and strides off to you, her tail swishing slowly like she's an animal analyzing her prey.
“What about your viewers?” you ask, when seeing how her watchful screen zeroes in on how you're standing next to the bedside with the phone nearby, looking like a criminal caught in the act. “E— Even if your crew's still there, you left the show all of a sudden!”
She sets her hands on her hips and strikes a proud pose.
“I gave my employees a raise just this week, as per your suggestion to make them like me more.” She grins. “They love you for it, and I've never seen them so eager to cover for me like today!”
All it takes is another sneeze to have her grin fade.
She seizes your face in her palms, her gaze effervescently worried despite the lack of eyes.
Her larger, taller frame corners you against the bedside table, her usually warm temperature felt cool against your feverish state. Her screen is a bit staticky, something you've learned through your time married to her that this is her body's way of showing she's tearing up. The swishing of her tail is slower, like she's happy she's with you, but unsure how to approach you.
“When I saw that text, I immediately had to drop everything to be here.”
Her forehead presses to yours, and her antennas spike when checking your temperature.
“You're overheating,” she states, her voice a booming, powerful duo of concern and anger. “If you were an electronic, I'm— I'm sure you would be dead by now!”
What a way to assure you're going to be fine.
Considering it's coming from your wife, and that prior to this she took your message about feeling sick too seriously, you see past that blunt choice of words as her being genuinely concerned for your well-being.
And it's to the point where her tail stops moving and that staticky filter over her face turns stronger.
“Should I ask Toriel how to take care of a human with a fever?” Tenna asks, squishing your face. “Or… Should I drive you to the hospital?” She huffs. “I should have known you'd still be like this! I should have called off today's show, and—”
“Tenna,” you hush, when she pulls her hands away from your face to clutch her head, her screen turning off as she panics. “I’m okay. I took some medicine, and all I need is—”
“SOUP!”
Her face returns to replace the black screen, and she points a finger at you.
“Toriel made soup for Kris whenever they got sick!” She gasps. “And Asgore…”
Her face gets all stern: an agape mouth changed into a scowl, and a pair of furrowed lines on her forehead mimicking eyebrows.
“Wait here, my darling. I'll be right back!”
• • • • •
A hot bowl of noodle soup, some warm herbal tea, and a lot of your wife worrying about your health later, you're on the couch with Tenna sitting crisscross on a blue beanbag in front of you, her screen tuned to her channel.
After her crew ended the show on a ‘to be continued’ a couple of hours ago, there's now a rerun of an 80s sitcom, the substitute to her rushing out in swift response to your messages.
“Y’know, honey…” You lean in, reach a hand out, and graze your knuckles against her screen, smiling at her. “You didn't have to do all this.”
The expression on her face as she switches her screen to it is… certainly something.
If you could describe it in any precise way with limited words, she seems incredibly appalled by the suggestion.
“You're my spouse,” she says, almost like a question. “Why would I marry you if I didn't want to be with you?” She sounds confused. “Didn't our vows say ‘through sickness and in health’?”
You chuckle and wipe a thumb across her mouth to clean off the smudged lipstick all over the screen, a humble courtesy of yours truly when smothering her in kisses after she served you the soup and tea on a tray, as if it were a twist on the usual breakfast in bed.
…Cold cure on the couch, maybe?
“I mean, yeah, but…” You close your eyes and sigh as you press your forehead to hers, assuring her your temperature has gone down quite a lot. “You look so happy when you're working, I didn't want to worry you.”
Your nose is stuffy, and your voice is slightly hoarse, making it appear as if you're crying.
And…
Perhaps, you are.
“I know we promised that and all, but…” She scoots closer to the couch to wrap her arms around your waist, lulling the shakiness of your body and the frantic beat of your heart. “It feels selfish to ask you to stay home to take care of me, when you've got a future so big and bright without me ahead of you.”
Tenna frowns and rests her face against your chest, letting out an angry breath.
“Being married to you and working for my future aren't mutually exclusive!”
The absence of her face against your body is felt straight away, and you look at her to see she's sending a disapproving glare your way.
“When Kris and Susie came to you, asking if you wanted a TV… I watched you do many things at once.” You reach for her hands and set them on your lap, holding both and waiting for her to continue. “You worked multiple jobs to find us a bigger home, but you still made space in your day to spend time with friends, family, and… me.” When you squeeze her hands, she pulls one back and squeezes one of yours, carrying it to her screen and pressing a soft, lasting kiss to your knuckles. “I'd like to think I can do the same thing.”
• • • • •
You don't know how long you've been watching the reruns, but by the time an umpteenth commercial break hits, you're in dire need of stretching out.
“Tenna,” you call, making her switch her screen back to her face. “What happened today made me wonder…”
She smiles and nods, waiting for you to carry on.
“Since you were so quick to reply to my messages about feeling sick…” You look away, turning bashful suddenly. “If I, uh, showed you a picture asking you for something… Would you take it seriously, too?”
“What kind of picture?” she asks, standing up from the bean bag to sit next to you on the couch.
She's still vaguely new to certain things, so you haven't exactly explained to her what a more modern meme is, but…
You retrieve your phone from the coffee table, sit back down, and check the gallery, clicking on the image you want to show her.
“Something like this.”
It's a picture of another cat looking at the viewer, now orange and doe-eyed, and with the caption reading: ‘Boobs?’
“Ah.”
Tenna's face goes to signal error, letting out a prolonged beep noise, until she changes back and shows you a shy smile and a furtive screen.
“W— Well…” She covers her face in her hands, hiding her blush and a wider smile. “If you wanted me to, then I suppose so.”
You grab her wrists and tug at them, making her remove her hands from her face.
“Do you want to?”
Her screen changes to full red.
And when she recovers, a flower blooms from her nose.
“Yes.”
You grin and offer your arms out at her.
“Allow me, then,” you suggest, winking.
It's a good thing you've started lifting ever since you tied the knot.
Because, if you can't carry your big and tall CRT wife bridal style into the bedroom, then did you really love her, to begin with?
Additional Tags: Deltarune Chapter Four Spoilers, Post-Deltarune Chapter Four, Gender-Neutral Reader-Insert, Gender-neutral Reader, Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Tenna Has Abandonment Issues (Deltarune), Tenna Has a Tail (Deltarune), Submissive Tenna (Deltarune), Possessive Tenna (Deltarune), Touch-Starved Tenna (Deltarune), No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, Tenna is a Malewife, First Meetings, Awkward Conversations, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Blushing, Flirting, Yearning, Pining, Fluff and Humor, Mild Language, Non-Graphic Smut, Developing Relationship, Roommates, Slow Build, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending
Summary:
As Hometown's school counselor, you've heard plenty of stories, but none quite like Kris's.
After months of getting to know them and navigating the effects of a recent issue with their mother, Kris opens up about the Dark World and how their friend Susie feels like the sole constant in a life full of changes.
Gaining the trust of a teenager with divorced parents hasn't been easy, yet the favour they ask when they knock on your door one morning is simple: take their old television and keep it at your place, since it means a lot to them and they don't want Toriel to throw it out.
You accept, but then they explain the television is a man named Tenna, so you plug him in and try to strike up a conversation.
Surprisingly, it works, and a new life begins.
Once alone with no set goal for the future, you now live alongside an eccentric show host, communicating via channel changes in the Light World, and eventually, by sneaking into the school's supply closet to jump into the Dark World and go on a date with him.
When things get serious between you, a decision has to be made: try to bring his Dark World form into the Light World, or risk staying in the Dark World with him while as a Lightner.
• • • • •
Chapter One | One More Time
It's a Tuesday morning, and the day has been a challenge.
You wouldn't say you simply woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but that you crawled from under it after clawing your way out of the boogeyman's grasp.
Long story short, you woke up with a migraine after roughly five hours of intermittent sleep and while shedding cold sweat, slipped on the shower and twisted your ankle upon seeing a big hairy spider on the ceiling, and walked into the kitchen to see the refrigerator stopped running since way before you fell asleep, resulting in a massive puddle all around it and a bunch of ruined groceries you bought the day before.
And that's only the beginning, because now you'll have to spend some of your well-earned savings on a new fridge (maybe fix it, if you're lucky), buy more groceries, and get the pain in your ankle checked.
“Ugh,” you mumble, bringing a hand to your forehead to rub the ache away.
It's going to be a looong day after work, and you're already regretting it.
Knock-knock.
Speaking of regrets, you wish you could turn back time to ring in the school and tell the principal you wouldn't make it today. Yet, of course, you thought you could walk off the pain and lessen the ache on both your head and ankle with some painkillers. To your luck, it didn't work. The throbbing feels like it's getting worse the more you walk around the school, the migraine won't go away, and you've had to endure the first few hours since clocking in by catching up on your duties as effectively as you can, making lesson plans, attending an IEP meeting, and scheduling other meetings with some parents for this Friday and next week. Now, you're meant to meet a parent in less than an hour, and you dread putting on your best face forward won't be enough to leave a good impression, because every coworker who's seen you today has noticed you don't feel all that great.
Knock-knock.
“Come in,” you call out, upon hearing a repeat of the soft knocking on the door.
Kris walks into the office, and you have to check the time on the clock on your desk to make sure you didn't miss a meeting or anything of the sort.
Just to be safe, you greet them with a smile and a good morning, then shuffle through the documents next to your desk for their files.
“Good morning,” Kris signs, sitting on the chair in front of your desk when you offer them to. “Miss Alphys gave me permission before we go to lunch,” they continue, giving you a slip of paper with the teacher's messy handwriting. “I have a favour to ask.”
“Oh?” You check the paper, store it away in Kris's file, and frown at them when you're all set. “What's wrong? Are you alright?”
They smile, putting a quick end to your worry with a decisive ‘I’m okay’.
“I just…” they sign, trailing off. “I wanted to ask if you want a TV?”
You raise an eyebrow, prop an elbow on the desk, and fold your other arm next to it, resting your head on your palm and setting the other one down on their file.
You moved in less than a year ago, and your earnings at your previous job weren't all that great, so…
You actually could use a television, just so your eyes don't burn and your neck doesn't sprain from how you now watch the news and your favourite shows on the small screen of your phone instead of the big flat screen at your old place.
“Um…” It's no doubt a strange reason for Kris to excuse themself from class, but then again…
They rarely do things like this.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
Kris nods, smiling wider.
And that's something they rarely do, too — and so warmly, at that, so you figure there's something more important going on.
Even the nice bunny lady at the diner across the street offered to give you a part-time job if you needed the extra cash, so it's not like you're a complete stranger to people's kindness to someone who recently moved in, despite also being the only other human next to Kris in a town full of monsters, although…
This is different.
“It's a CRT,” they explain, pointing a finger over their shoulder. “And it's outside, so I can bring it in here, if you wanna take it home with you.”
It's strange to have them use their voice.
Oftentimes during your meetings with Kris, they mostly choose sign languages to communicate.
At rare moments like these, you've learned that they're giving out the extra mile for something meaningful to them.
“It’s a little old, but—”
“Of course, dear.”
Kris immediately seems more relaxed at the use of ‘dear’ instead of their name, yet it wasn't always like that.
Getting them out of their shell was an incredible task, and you're still not quite sure how it happened.
“Even if it only works with antennas?”
“Yes.” You laugh. “It could be in black-and-white, and I'll still take it, y’know? Not only because I don't have a TV, but because you said it's a favour.”
Outside of school, you've taken up extra jobs to make ends meet, and that's how your current relationship with them took shape.
One early morning a couple of months ago, Toriel showed up at your office to tell you how much better Kris seemed to be handling their emotions, ever since you came along as the school counselor. So, from that day forward once a week — specifically, every Friday after school — Kris shows up at your office for a therapy session of sorts (after receiving approval from the principal, of course). Offering your time after clocking out and showing your interest in their stories of the Dark World has made them admit they now see you as part of their family, and that they feel a sense of comfort when you call them ‘dear’ instead of ‘Kris’. You were even invited to their birthday party not too long ago, and Toriel welcomed you without reluctance. At one point, it didn't feel right to keep seeing your meetings with them after school as a job, with how much they've opened up to you.
By then, it was time to say what was on your mind, and Toriel took it in stride.
She stifled a giggle and told you that you were being silly for feeling guilty that she was still paying you, in spite of the arrangement becoming more personal than professional.
She might have been the topic of conversation during the first couple of weeks, yet she seems to be making bigger efforts to understand Kris's moods nowadays, and you've been hoping a repeat of last time doesn't happen, more so for Kris's sake, than for the effort of having to go through that process again.
“Let me help you,” you tell them, when they stand up from their seat and walk back to the door. “If it's a CRT… It has to be heavy,” you remark, and they chuckle. “Did you carry it all the way here by yourself?”
“Susie helped out,” they state, opening the door and holding it for you while you pass. “She says she doesn't like school counselors, so she left before I knocked on the door and then—”
Upon stepping out of the office, Kris's gaze widens, and they come to a rough stop.
The television they mentioned is plugged in to the socket next to your door.
It's on screensaver, with the DVD logo bouncing around.
For a moment, it seems like they're holding a staring contest with the television, and you swear it feels like the television responds to the glare Kris directs at its screen by flickering to signal error for a split second.
“By the way,” they sign, huffing. “It's not… a normal TV, so be careful, and don't get spooked.”
You nod along for them to carry on, kind of used to the oddity of their stories by now.
“It wasn't plugged in when I left it here, and maybe someone just wanted to try it out, but…”
They meet your gaze, red eyes showing an amount of concern that's only heightened the more stories they've shared to you about the Dark World.
“If anything weird happens, it's probably because of that,” they explain, unplugging the television. “In the Dark World, he's actually like a celebrity. His name’s Tenna, and he wanted me to find someone to adopt him, since nobody watches him at home anymore, and he wants company.” They stop to glance back at you, a hint of reluctance in the light of their eyes before they sigh and look away. “Mom’s been thinking of buying a new TV, and I don't want him to get thrown out.”
“So, he's like a friend?” you ask, hoping to erase the gloom in their eyes before they go off to lunch. “It's okay to be worried about him!”
Kris looks back to you, a smaller smile breaking the uneasy grimace and easing the furrow in their brow.
“Promise me you'll take care of him?”
You nod and offer your arms out, letting them walk up to you for a hug.
“I promise.”
• • • • •
“Um…”
Many hours later, after contacting someone who could fix the refrigerator, going to the doctor to get yourself checked and treated, and buying fewer groceries in case the fridge acts up again, you're home.
And now that you're finally able to rest, you've brought Kris's television into your living room, kneeling in front of it to — somehow — try to start a conversation with... Tenna.
“Hello?”
Stars, you're thankful you live alone.
Otherwise, you don't know how you'd explain to a partner or a roommate why you're trying to chat with an inanimate object instead of them.
“Maybe I need to… turn you on first?” You consider your choice of words and immediately regret them. “Okay. Not like that, so don't get scared. Just… In a literal, electrical sort of sense. You get me?”
No response.
You figured as much.
Still, you stand up, fetch the plug behind the television, and connect it to the socket on the wall next to it.
Finally, you kneel once more, scoot closer, and press on the power button.
“Um…”
Again, this seems ridiculous as hell.
“Hello.”
The channel it's currently on is simply loud static, and — for a moment — it feels like it will stay that way, until…
“Good evening, everybody,” a weather reporter says, his smile big and bright. “Better get your umbrellas ready for tomorrow! It's gonna be—”
The channel changes on its own.
“Gusto en conocerte,” a Hispanic woman from a random soap opera greets, offering her hand out to a man — shirtless, for whatever reason — showing up at her door with a six-pack of abs and a six-pack of beer.
The rest of the audio dissolves into background noise as you process what's just happened, and you even look down at your hands to make sure they haven't acted on their own to drive you insane.
“Uh…” You blink away the confusion for a few seconds — eyes still fixed on your palms — and then reply with, “Nice to meet you, too?”
The channel changes to a kid's show, where a group of children are smiling and giggling, bouncing around with a happy clown lady.
“You're… Mister Tenna, aren't you?”
The channel changes once more.
“Correct!” a game show announcer screams, pointing a finger at a goat woman lost in excitement, having won the jackpot prize.
Now, it's sort of a horror movie scenario more than a happy-go-lucky one, as the channels start to change one after the other, allowing only letters to slip by until…
Mister Tenna spells out your name, letter by letter.
“Y— Yes,” you reply, and you gulp down the sudden fear that's climbed its way to your throat. “That's my name! Kris told you, didn't they?”
Static, then a change of channel.
“Incorrect!” the same game show announcer screams, now pointing a finger at a goat man drowning in sorrow, having lost all his bets.
“Uh…”
That answer doesn't exactly help with how creepy it feels to be communicating with an entity that's spelled out your name perfectly through quick channel changes.
“Then… How?”
He switches to a laugh track that follows while two black men — assumedly brothers or in some way related, if you remember the sitcom correctly — are having a discussion.
Channel switch.
“Name?” a different show announcer asks.
And yet another.
“Tag!” a red monster named Elmo exclaims, while… tagging himself.
Your eyes widen at the realization, and you stare down at yourself to see you're still wearing your work uniform, reminding you it's been over sixteen hours since you woke up.
At the reminder you have to sleep soon and be ready for another day, you aim to look for your phone and check the time, but…
“Good evening, Hometown! It's currently ten thirty-three, and—”
The channel changes to static, and — for a moment — you swear you see the freaking television blush on screen.
“Um…”
You seriously need to expand your vocabulary if you want to impress Kris's astonishingly vocal friend, and yet…
You know it will be difficult to get used to the oddity of this situation.
“Wait,” you blurt, and then you realize this practically means you have a roommate now. “Does that mean you'll be able to see me whenever you're turned—” You cough, clearing your throat. “I mean… Whenever you're switched on?”
Several changes of channel ensue, like he's having a hard time finding the right answer.
“Yes,” an ecstatic, pale, chubby, and blonde woman exclaims, jumping into the arms of an equally ecstatic, red-haired, muscular, tanned woman as she accepts her proposal.
“Okay, so…”
Goodbye to the days you watched television in nothing but your underwear.
“Good to know.”
A frown twists your mouth as you consider his situation here in the… Light World?
“So, that means I should keep you plugged into electricity whenever I can, if that means you'll still be conscious, but you won't see me?”
Tenna replies by changing to a channel with a teenage cat girl shrugging, rolling her eyes, and saying, “Ugh, whatever. You decide.”
And then, he clarifies he means that in an excited manner rather than broody, since he follows it up with the same kids’ channel, showing the group of children cheering at the same clown while she crafts different shapes with a bunch of balloons.
“Uh…” You smile. “Cool! Then, I will. I guess a blackout is kind of like a… Bad day? A coma? A small shock? A… heart attack?” You hum in thought and rub your chin, trying to search for the best way to describe it. “Something like that? You don’t have to answer right now. I'm just… wondering how this works.”
You figure this is a terrible first impression with how many ‘buts’, ‘ums’, and ‘uhs’, and even a forsaken ‘something like that’ you're replying with, but — again — this will take some time getting used to.
“Mister Tenna,” you call out, noticing you've kept yourself silent for a bit too long, based on the fact he's changed the channel to one on a commercial break. “Could I ask you one last thing, before I wash up and go to bed?”
He immediately responds by changing the channel to a blue bird monster trying to act cool by asking ‘What's up?’, and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
“I know we've only just met, but…” You swallow hard and close your eyes tightly, letting out breath. “Does this mean we can be friends?”
Oh, no.
Oh, crap.
You've done something wrong, because Tenna literally starts shaking — as in — the television goes silent, and into a bright white screen, tumbling left and right like there's an earthquake and it's only affecting him.
Fight or flight immediately kicks in, obliging you to stand up and step back, fists held up in front of you and legs trembling like you're ready to do both things at once.
“ABSOLUTELY,” a hyped man's voice shouts, and a — listen to this — a giant red flower blooms from the center of the screen like something from a lucid dream.
“Uhhh…” you drone, falling back to your knees like you're witnessing an epiphany.
This is probably the equivalent of Tenna going into full static, so you hope he doesn't judge you too much for your reaction.
“C— Cool.”
Smooth.
• • • • •
[Link to the full story on AO3.]
Author's Note:
Sharing at least chapter 1 on Tumblr! The rest will be up on AO3 (uncensored, rated M), and on Wattpad and Quotev (censored, rated T).
I find posting long fics on Tumblr a bit clumsy, so for now, you can see bi-weekly updates for this story on AO3!
Additional Tags: Deltarune Chapter Four Spoilers, Post-Deltarune Chapter Four, Gender-Neutral Reader-Insert, Gender-neutral Reader, Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Tenna Has Abandonment Issues (Deltarune), Tenna Has a Tail (Deltarune), Submissive Tenna (Deltarune), Possessive Tenna (Deltarune), Touch-Starved Tenna (Deltarune), No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, Tenna is a Malewife, First Meetings, Awkward Conversations, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Blushing, Flirting, Yearning, Pining, Fluff and Humor, Mild Language, Non-Graphic Smut, Developing Relationship, Roommates, Slow Build, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending
Summary:
As Hometown's school counselor, you've heard plenty of stories, but none quite like Kris's.
After months of getting to know them and navigating the effects of a recent issue with their mother, Kris opens up about the Dark World and how their friend Susie feels like the sole constant in a life full of changes.
Gaining the trust of a teenager with divorced parents hasn't been easy, yet the favour they ask when they knock on your door one morning is simple: take their old television and keep it at your place, since it means a lot to them and they don't want Toriel to throw it out.
You accept, but then they explain the television is a man named Tenna, so you plug him in and try to strike up a conversation.
Surprisingly, it works, and a new life begins.
Once alone with no set goal for the future, you now live alongside an eccentric show host, communicating via channel changes in the Light World, and eventually, by sneaking into the school's supply closet to jump into the Dark World and go on a date with him.
When things get serious between you, a decision has to be made: try to bring his Dark World form into the Light World, or risk staying in the Dark World with him while as a Lightner.
• • • • •
Chapter One | One More Time
It's a Tuesday morning, and the day has been a challenge.
You wouldn't say you simply woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but that you crawled from under it after clawing your way out of the boogeyman's grasp.
Long story short, you woke up with a migraine after roughly five hours of intermittent sleep and while shedding cold sweat, slipped on the shower and twisted your ankle upon seeing a big hairy spider on the ceiling, and walked into the kitchen to see the refrigerator stopped running since way before you fell asleep, resulting in a massive puddle all around it and a bunch of ruined groceries you bought the day before.
And that's only the beginning, because now you'll have to spend some of your well-earned savings on a new fridge (maybe fix it, if you're lucky), buy more groceries, and get the pain in your ankle checked.
“Ugh,” you mumble, bringing a hand to your forehead to rub the ache away.
It's going to be a looong day after work, and you're already regretting it.
Knock-knock.
Speaking of regrets, you wish you could turn back time to ring in the school and tell the principal you wouldn't make it today. Yet, of course, you thought you could walk off the pain and lessen the ache on both your head and ankle with some painkillers. To your luck, it didn't work. The throbbing feels like it's getting worse the more you walk around the school, the migraine won't go away, and you've had to endure the first few hours since clocking in by catching up on your duties as effectively as you can, making lesson plans, attending an IEP meeting, and scheduling other meetings with some parents for this Friday and next week. Now, you're meant to meet a parent in less than an hour, and you dread putting on your best face forward won't be enough to leave a good impression, because every coworker who's seen you today has noticed you don't feel all that great.
Knock-knock.
“Come in,” you call out, upon hearing a repeat of the soft knocking on the door.
Kris walks into the office, and you have to check the time on the clock on your desk to make sure you didn't miss a meeting or anything of the sort.
Just to be safe, you greet them with a smile and a good morning, then shuffle through the documents next to your desk for their files.
“Good morning,” Kris signs, sitting on the chair in front of your desk when you offer them to. “Miss Alphys gave me permission before we go to lunch,” they continue, giving you a slip of paper with the teacher's messy handwriting. “I have a favour to ask.”
“Oh?” You check the paper, store it away in Kris's file, and frown at them when you're all set. “What's wrong? Are you alright?”
They smile, putting a quick end to your worry with a decisive ‘I’m okay’.
“I just…” they sign, trailing off. “I wanted to ask if you want a TV?”
You raise an eyebrow, prop an elbow on the desk, and fold your other arm next to it, resting your head on your palm and setting the other one down on their file.
You moved in less than a year ago, and your earnings at your previous job weren't all that great, so…
You actually could use a television, just so your eyes don't burn and your neck doesn't sprain from how you now watch the news and your favourite shows on the small screen of your phone instead of the big flat screen at your old place.
“Um…” It's no doubt a strange reason for Kris to excuse themself from class, but then again…
They rarely do things like this.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
Kris nods, smiling wider.
And that's something they rarely do, too — and so warmly, at that, so you figure there's something more important going on.
Even the nice bunny lady at the diner across the street offered to give you a part-time job if you needed the extra cash, so it's not like you're a complete stranger to people's kindness to someone who recently moved in, despite also being the only other human next to Kris in a town full of monsters, although…
This is different.
“It's a CRT,” they explain, pointing a finger over their shoulder. “And it's outside, so I can bring it in here, if you wanna take it home with you.”
It's strange to have them use their voice.
Oftentimes during your meetings with Kris, they mostly choose sign languages to communicate.
At rare moments like these, you've learned that they're giving out the extra mile for something meaningful to them.
“It’s a little old, but—”
“Of course, dear.”
Kris immediately seems more relaxed at the use of ‘dear’ instead of their name, yet it wasn't always like that.
Getting them out of their shell was an incredible task, and you're still not quite sure how it happened.
“Even if it only works with antennas?”
“Yes.” You laugh. “It could be in black-and-white, and I'll still take it, y’know? Not only because I don't have a TV, but because you said it's a favour.”
Outside of school, you've taken up extra jobs to make ends meet, and that's how your current relationship with them took shape.
One early morning a couple of months ago, Toriel showed up at your office to tell you how much better Kris seemed to be handling their emotions, ever since you came along as the school counselor. So, from that day forward once a week — specifically, every Friday after school — Kris shows up at your office for a therapy session of sorts (after receiving approval from the principal, of course). Offering your time after clocking out and showing your interest in their stories of the Dark World has made them admit they now see you as part of their family, and that they feel a sense of comfort when you call them ‘dear’ instead of ‘Kris’. You were even invited to their birthday party not too long ago, and Toriel welcomed you without reluctance. At one point, it didn't feel right to keep seeing your meetings with them after school as a job, with how much they've opened up to you.
By then, it was time to say what was on your mind, and Toriel took it in stride.
She stifled a giggle and told you that you were being silly for feeling guilty that she was still paying you, in spite of the arrangement becoming more personal than professional.
She might have been the topic of conversation during the first couple of weeks, yet she seems to be making bigger efforts to understand Kris's moods nowadays, and you've been hoping a repeat of last time doesn't happen, more so for Kris's sake, than for the effort of having to go through that process again.
“Let me help you,” you tell them, when they stand up from their seat and walk back to the door. “If it's a CRT… It has to be heavy,” you remark, and they chuckle. “Did you carry it all the way here by yourself?”
“Susie helped out,” they state, opening the door and holding it for you while you pass. “She says she doesn't like school counselors, so she left before I knocked on the door and then—”
Upon stepping out of the office, Kris's gaze widens, and they come to a rough stop.
The television they mentioned is plugged in to the socket next to your door.
It's on screensaver, with the DVD logo bouncing around.
For a moment, it seems like they're holding a staring contest with the television, and you swear it feels like the television responds to the glare Kris directs at its screen by flickering to signal error for a split second.
“By the way,” they sign, huffing. “It's not… a normal TV, so be careful, and don't get spooked.”
You nod along for them to carry on, kind of used to the oddity of their stories by now.
“It wasn't plugged in when I left it here, and maybe someone just wanted to try it out, but…”
They meet your gaze, red eyes showing an amount of concern that's only heightened the more stories they've shared to you about the Dark World.
“If anything weird happens, it's probably because of that,” they explain, unplugging the television. “In the Dark World, he's actually like a celebrity. His name’s Tenna, and he wanted me to find someone to adopt him, since nobody watches him at home anymore, and he wants company.” They stop to glance back at you, a hint of reluctance in the light of their eyes before they sigh and look away. “Mom’s been thinking of buying a new TV, and I don't want him to get thrown out.”
“So, he's like a friend?” you ask, hoping to erase the gloom in their eyes before they go off to lunch. “It's okay to be worried about him!”
Kris looks back to you, a smaller smile breaking the uneasy grimace and easing the furrow in their brow.
“Promise me you'll take care of him?”
You nod and offer your arms out, letting them walk up to you for a hug.
“I promise.”
• • • • •
“Um…”
Many hours later, after contacting someone who could fix the refrigerator, going to the doctor to get yourself checked and treated, and buying fewer groceries in case the fridge acts up again, you're home.
And now that you're finally able to rest, you've brought Kris's television into your living room, kneeling in front of it to — somehow — try to start a conversation with... Tenna.
“Hello?”
Stars, you're thankful you live alone.
Otherwise, you don't know how you'd explain to a partner or a roommate why you're trying to chat with an inanimate object instead of them.
“Maybe I need to… turn you on first?” You consider your choice of words and immediately regret them. “Okay. Not like that, so don't get scared. Just… In a literal, electrical sort of sense. You get me?”
No response.
You figured as much.
Still, you stand up, fetch the plug behind the television, and connect it to the socket on the wall next to it.
Finally, you kneel once more, scoot closer, and press on the power button.
“Um…”
Again, this seems ridiculous as hell.
“Hello.”
The channel it's currently on is simply loud static, and — for a moment — it feels like it will stay that way, until…
“Good evening, everybody,” a weather reporter says, his smile big and bright. “Better get your umbrellas ready for tomorrow! It's gonna be—”
The channel changes on its own.
“Gusto en conocerte,” a Hispanic woman from a random soap opera greets, offering her hand out to a man — shirtless, for whatever reason — showing up at her door with a six-pack of abs and a six-pack of beer.
The rest of the audio dissolves into background noise as you process what's just happened, and you even look down at your hands to make sure they haven't acted on their own to drive you insane.
“Uh…” You blink away the confusion for a few seconds — eyes still fixed on your palms — and then reply with, “Nice to meet you, too?”
The channel changes to a kid's show, where a group of children are smiling and giggling, bouncing around with a happy clown lady.
“You're… Mister Tenna, aren't you?”
The channel changes once more.
“Correct!” a game show announcer screams, pointing a finger at a goat woman lost in excitement, having won the jackpot prize.
Now, it's sort of a horror movie scenario more than a happy-go-lucky one, as the channels start to change one after the other, allowing only letters to slip by until…
Mister Tenna spells out your name, letter by letter.
“Y— Yes,” you reply, and you gulp down the sudden fear that's climbed its way to your throat. “That's my name! Kris told you, didn't they?”
Static, then a change of channel.
“Incorrect!” the same game show announcer screams, now pointing a finger at a goat man drowning in sorrow, having lost all his bets.
“Uh…”
That answer doesn't exactly help with how creepy it feels to be communicating with an entity that's spelled out your name perfectly through quick channel changes.
“Then… How?”
He switches to a laugh track that follows while two black men — assumedly brothers or in some way related, if you remember the sitcom correctly — are having a discussion.
Channel switch.
“Name?” a different show announcer asks.
And yet another.
“Tag!” a red monster named Elmo exclaims, while… tagging himself.
Your eyes widen at the realization, and you stare down at yourself to see you're still wearing your work uniform, reminding you it's been over sixteen hours since you woke up.
At the reminder you have to sleep soon and be ready for another day, you aim to look for your phone and check the time, but…
“Good evening, Hometown! It's currently ten thirty-three, and—”
The channel changes to static, and — for a moment — you swear you see the freaking television blush on screen.
“Um…”
You seriously need to expand your vocabulary if you want to impress Kris's astonishingly vocal friend, and yet…
You know it will be difficult to get used to the oddity of this situation.
“Wait,” you blurt, and then you realize this practically means you have a roommate now. “Does that mean you'll be able to see me whenever you're turned—” You cough, clearing your throat. “I mean… Whenever you're switched on?”
Several changes of channel ensue, like he's having a hard time finding the right answer.
“Yes,” an ecstatic, pale, chubby, and blonde woman exclaims, jumping into the arms of an equally ecstatic, red-haired, muscular, tanned woman as she accepts her proposal.
“Okay, so…”
Goodbye to the days you watched television in nothing but your underwear.
“Good to know.”
A frown twists your mouth as you consider his situation here in the… Light World?
“So, that means I should keep you plugged into electricity whenever I can, if that means you'll still be conscious, but you won't see me?”
Tenna replies by changing to a channel with a teenage cat girl shrugging, rolling her eyes, and saying, “Ugh, whatever. You decide.”
And then, he clarifies he means that in an excited manner rather than broody, since he follows it up with the same kids’ channel, showing the group of children cheering at the same clown while she crafts different shapes with a bunch of balloons.
“Uh…” You smile. “Cool! Then, I will. I guess a blackout is kind of like a… Bad day? A coma? A small shock? A… heart attack?” You hum in thought and rub your chin, trying to search for the best way to describe it. “Something like that? You don’t have to answer right now. I'm just… wondering how this works.”
You figure this is a terrible first impression with how many ‘buts’, ‘ums’, and ‘uhs’, and even a forsaken ‘something like that’ you're replying with, but — again — this will take some time getting used to.
“Mister Tenna,” you call out, noticing you've kept yourself silent for a bit too long, based on the fact he's changed the channel to one on a commercial break. “Could I ask you one last thing, before I wash up and go to bed?”
He immediately responds by changing the channel to a blue bird monster trying to act cool by asking ‘What's up?’, and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
“I know we've only just met, but…” You swallow hard and close your eyes tightly, letting out breath. “Does this mean we can be friends?”
Oh, no.
Oh, crap.
You've done something wrong, because Tenna literally starts shaking — as in — the television goes silent, and into a bright white screen, tumbling left and right like there's an earthquake and it's only affecting him.
Fight or flight immediately kicks in, obliging you to stand up and step back, fists held up in front of you and legs trembling like you're ready to do both things at once.
“ABSOLUTELY,” a hyped man's voice shouts, and a — listen to this — a giant red flower blooms from the center of the screen like something from a lucid dream.
“Uhhh…” you drone, falling back to your knees like you're witnessing an epiphany.
This is probably the equivalent of Tenna going into full static, so you hope he doesn't judge you too much for your reaction.
“C— Cool.”
Smooth.
• • • • •
[Link to the full story on AO3.]
Author's Note:
Sharing at least chapter 1 on Tumblr! The rest will be up on AO3 (uncensored, rated M), and on Wattpad and Quotev (censored, rated T).
I find posting long fics on Tumblr a bit clumsy, so for now, you can see bi-weekly updates for this story on AO3!
