Love Crafted

“Dreamer.”

You squirm a little, flashes and visions of the great void, of the strange and wondrous things you saw and felt within it, of the eternal quiet between destinations passing through your mind’s eye.

“Dreamer, wake up sweetie.”

You remember the cold bite of the dark, and the harsher bite of loneliness. Then you’d find someone, a friend, a rival, a snack.

“Dreamer.” Something shakes you. “Dreamer, we need to wake up!”

You yawn, jaw cracking as you open it really, really wide. Then your eyes flutter open and you take in Abigail’s face only a hair away from yours. Her eyes are wide and she lets out a sigh and a noise that’s neither happy nor sad.

“Good, you’re up,” she says. “We’re going to be late, Dreamer, we need to hurry!”

You yawn again and stuff a hand over your mouth like Abigail and Daphne do when they’re yawning. “Okay,” you agree. Your tentacuddlers unravel a bit, some of them pushing away the corner of the blankets that are left over you and the others lifting Abigail up to place her next to the bed.

You turn around and stuff your face back into a pillow, eyes closing once more.

A shake of your shoulders has you waking up again. “Dreamer, breakfast is ready.”

You snap awake and look around. You don’t know how, but in the time it took for you to blink Abigail changed out of her sleeping clothes and into the black robes of her school uniform and is holding a tray with a plate covered in chopped potatoes and scrambled eggs.

“You’re so fast!” You tell her as you sit up and use a few tentacles to hold up the platter.

“Just going as fast as I can,” Abigail says. “I don’t want to be late today of all days.”

Well, you decide that if Abigail’s in a hurry, then you can do things fast too! A tentacle splits apart into hundreds of fine tendrils that spear into your potato wedges and shoves them into your mouth, then you tip the plate back and open wide so that the eggs can flow down your throat.

The glass of milk Abigail brings you goes down just as fast.

“Mmm, okay, I’m ready!” you say as you hop out of bed. A twist in space and a brand new copy of your dress is flung into you and you squirm until you’re wearing it properly. “Okay, we can go now!” you say as you pull out a pair of cuffs and slip those on too.

“Ah, well,” Abigail says. “I just need to finish packing, it’ll only take a minute.”

You watch her scurry around the house in a rush, picking up books and papers and stuffing them in a big burlap sack. She even picks up that ugly cone hat she bought and plops it onto her head.

“Abigail, today is important, right?” you ask her.

“Yes, very,” Abigail agrees. “It’s the first day. It’s... the most important day, maybe.”

“Oh, okay,” you say. “In that case I should make sure you look extra pretty. That way everyone will know that you’re really important.”

Abigail pauses in her rushing and turns towards you. Her floofy hair is all frazzled and her big glasses are barely hanging onto the tip of her nose. “Look extra pretty?” she repeats.

Of course, Abigail is already very pretty. She has a cute nose, just like yours, and cute freckles, just like yours, and cute hair, just like yours. But you can make her even more prettier if you try. And that’s without giving her her own tentacles.

Nodding, you reach around with a big tentacle and stuff it into the planet’s core to siphon off some of that yummy life juice. “Open wide!”

“Wha--”

A tentacle jams itself into Abigail’s mouth and spurts life juice down her throat while she’s too tired to yank it out. It’s a good thing that you only wanted to give her a little because when you pull it out she coughs and sputters a lot.

“Dreamer! Wh-what was that for!” she says. Then she notices that her skin now has a nice, healthy glow. “Dreamer, what?”

“I made you more magical!” you say before a tentacle removes her ugly hat and a million more, smaller tentacles run through her hair and unmuss it. “You’ll be so pretty that all the other Familiars will want you to be their Summoner, but they can’t have you because you’re mine. And the boys will want to mate with you. But they can’t because if they try I’ll eat them.”

“Dreamer!” Abigail snaps. It’s not a happy sound and you notice that her eyes are pinched while looking right at you. “Enough. Please. I know you just want to help, and it’s nice, but you need to ask before doing things.”

“But--”

“No, no buts Dreamer. I’m not like you, I’m... I’m less strong, okay? I don’t want you to hurt me and I don’t want to lose you. Please?”

You freeze for a long moment. Abigail is right that she’s all squishy and weak, it’s part of what makes her so good for cuddling, but if she’s too weak. “Ah,” you say. “I’m sorry Abigail. I just wanted to help you be super pretty."

Abigail grabs you in a tight hug. “I don’t need to be pretty Dreamer, I’m happy as I am, okay?”

“Oh, okay.”

“Right,” Abigail says. “Let’s hope that I stop... glowing before we arrive at the gates. I look like a pompous noble this way. Sheesh.”

“Like a princess?” you ask.

Abigail rolls her eyes, picks up her bag with one arm, and reaches out a hand for you to grab. “C’mon Dreamer, we have a full day ahead of us!”