Forever Mine
—"Don't leave me..."
—In which the television you see in your dreams doesn't want you to wake up.
A/N: Someone needed to make a Yandere Tenna fic and I guess it's got to be me. See my vision, I beg of you.
CW: Yandere, Manipulation, Guilt-Tripping
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The Dreemurr family's divorce is a town wide scandal, the 'incident' causing it forever an unspoken haunt to the townspeople.
To you, however, it's the reason you got this nifty little free TV.
It's cool—works just fine, though it has some parental restriction codes that were quite the inconvenience to get through, but it's free. That's right. Zero dollars. You just visited Miss Toriel one day like you thought any good neighbor would. And luckily for you, she asked if you could take her television off her hands, because no one in the family used it anymore, and it just brought back memories she didn't want.
So you helped Miss Toriel and got a free TV. Sweet.
It sits in your house, affectionately nicknamed "Tenna"—because of its long antennae that almost seem to squirm when you touch them. You know it is far from the most modern form of entertainment, but it is entertainment nonetheless, and besides—you've reluctantly grown attached to this television. Late nights on the couch, just you and it, have become commonplace. Sometimes, you even fall asleep.
And on one of those nights, the dreams begin.
You are in a place so dark it's light again—bright, saturated colors in checkered patterns marking the floors, infomercials everywhere, and tons of little flyers with the same fuzzy TV silhouette your eyes can briefly make out.
Okay, what kind of fever dream this is, you don't even know. Might as well just make the best of it.
You pick up a flyer.
"Coming Straight From Your House—Mr. (Ant) Tenna's Marvelous Mystery Board!"
Some sort of game show- wait, did that flyer just talk?
There is suddenly a spotlight on you.
"That's right!" Continues the voice, with the same chipper yet even timbre of a gameshow host. From the wall behind you pops out-
A man with a television head.
A very hot man with a television head.
You would be remiss not to admit it, really. Sure, he does, well, you know, but the TV-head is really just a bonus! On top of that surprisingly charming suit and nice ass, the TV-head fills your brain with ideas that make you wonder if you are deranged.
You decide not to give them the time of day just yet.
Meanwhile, the man with the television head continues to race about his gameshow.
"Special prizes, physical challenges, and more, only on-"
"I'm in," you say, and for all his bravado, the television man—Mister Ant Tenna from the poster, wait, your TV is named Tenna, wait, are you seriously dreaming about your TV as a hot gameshow host—startles noticeably, antennae going ramrod straight.
"You are?" He says. You nod.
"Uh, yeah. Seems cool."
He claps his hands with excitement, and suddenly, a thermometer appears on screen, immediately cracking with excitement.
"Magnificent! Splendid! The Fun-O-Meter's off the chart folks! Mike, play the applause!"
And pre-recorded applause ensues. You wonder if anyone is actually watching. Except no one is watching, because this is a dream.
You go through the motions—play the games, win the prizes. You get Z Rank, because you have what many would call a massive skill issue. But Tenna does not mind, regarding you with the patience of a saint.
The credits roll, but Tenna seems hesitant.
"Maybe- another round?" He suggests. You nod.
"When I come back," you say, before he can get the wrong idea. "Every good show needs an intermission.'
With that, you leave your dream, certain that it really was just that. A one time dream.
But then, the next late night on the couch comes, and you find yourself in that same dream once again.
Tenna's antennae droop as he speaks to you in private afterwards.
"You sure took a lot time!" He says, trying to sound cheery. It fails, though, considering the way he shrinks in discontent. "It's alright though, I get it. It was fun enough, just me and the board- I've- never been good company anyways, and-"
He's trying so hard to sound alright with it that it just makes you feel even more guilty. His antennae droop, and you avert your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the guilt from stabbing at your heart. It doesn't work.
"You're great company," you say, in lieu of asking how come it was just him and the board when he has all those employees under him. "You know what? I'll stay as many rounds as you want! Seem fair?"
Immediately, he perks up, rapidly growing in excitement, antennae perked back up.
"Absolutely wonderful!" He says. The Fun-O-Meter once again explodes. Applause roars as Tenna starts rambling.
You play and play as many bonus rounds as you can until Tenna is something akin to satisfied. At last, you wake up.
You have slept through the entire day. Angry messages await you, as a result of obligations miserably unfulfilled. You don't even want to check them.
But you do. Typing out responses and making amends.
You wish you were back there, in that dream of yours.
So you stay by the television and fall asleep once more.
And once again, Tenna greets you.
"You came by faster today, darling!" He says. You find yourself liking the nickname, if only because it is him saying it.
You nod.
"That I did."
"Miss me?" He asks, and if he had eyes you just know he'd be batting them innocently.
"No," you start, trying to set up some sort of coy flirtation, but you immediately regret it when he visibly deflates.
"Oh," he says. "I- should have seen that coming. I mean, hah, you're absolutely stellar, darling, and I'm... Just..."
"I- I didn't mean it!" You hastily amend. "I was just joking. Really, I don't even know what I was thinking; I'm sorry!"
He smiles at that, placing a tentative arm on your shoulder.
"You-" he starts, before clearing his throat and trying to regain his composure. "You won't mind if I do this, then?"
And before you can ask what he means, he's pressing a fiery, impassioned kiss to your lips.
It's half-loving, gentle, like you are the most precious thing he has ever held within his arms, half an act of possession, like he wants to lay claim to you in a way no one else can. The possessive half is carried out guiltily, you can tell, the way he gently licks at all the bites he leaves, consoles you when you yelp at the little electric shock he gives.
You've never wanted anything more.
The kiss ends, and you find a gutted sob escaping you. Tenna startles.
"Was that not alright, darling?"
"This- This can't be a dream," you say. You feel pathetic, longing for a relationship conjured up in a fantasy like this. A man born from your own furniture, who obsesses over your happiness like it is his sole priority. That can't be what you want, and yet it is. "Please don't let this be a dream."
You suddenly feel a comforting hand on your back, the touch initially sending a shock down your spine."
"It's not a dream," Tenna says, breath tickling your ear. You can only hope he's right.
You wake up with a start, dreading the day.
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The relationship of your dreams is half fantasy, half nightmare. Tenna is a sweetheart, indeed he is, always fretting over your every concern and comfort, letting your worries melt away with his games and challenges.
And then sometimes he'll snap, scold you or break, and mere moments later, he'll be on his knees, begging not to leave.
"Please stay," he begs you one night, the blow of the wind that should have been pleasant chilling you to your very core. "You're all I have. Please-"
"I will," you nod, gulping. He doesn't believe you, face contorting into its familiar motion, and regardless of having no eyes, it's oh-so expressive that it immediately makes you shoot up with dread.
"Say you love me," he whispers, shaking you with a manic sort of feel. "Say it."
"I love you."
"I don't believe you."
"I- I love you," you say. "Please."
And like some sort of trance has been broken, his head jerks, the hands that were only just shaking you now cradling with the gentleness you normally know.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, kissing reverently as if that'll prove anything. "Don't leave me. Please."
You know you won't. You can't. You'll keep waking up later and later in the day, letting him take more and more out of your time. He is greedy, absolutely ravenous when it comes to you, and he'll devour you whole if that's what you offer.
And yet you offer yourself whole anyways, because you just can't say no.
Time passes. It's all a blur. You remember less and less of your day to day activities, and more and more of your dreams. Of Tenna, sweet and charismatic and pleadingly manic the next. How he beckons for you to stay even when the ring you now recognize as your alarm screams for you to wake up.
And how could you not, when his kisses are so inviting?
It all comes to a head one night.
"Stay," he murmurs, serving you dinner. You sigh.
"You know I will," you say.
"Not like that," he says. "Stay here. Forever."
"For- ever?"
Your eyes widen as the implication of his words catches up to you all too late.
These dreams- no- they're-
"I have a life back outside," you say, panicking as his antennae twitch in displeasure.
"Then you'll leave me to rot...?" He asks, falsely resigned. You gulp. You know him better by now. You know how intelligent he is. How assured.
He knows exactly what you'll say, that he knows you know but you'll do it anyways, damnit-
"That's not what I mean," you say. He sighs.
"Of course you can tell yourself that!" He says. "I really am insignificant... Just a tryst-"
"I'll stay," you say at last, acquiescing as you always have. He beams, kissing you like a touch-starved puppy, and you forget yourself for a few moments.
As far as any of your friends and family know, you will never wake up again.
But as far as you know, intoxicated by the seemingly permanent love in the air, you are the most awake you have ever been.
