he misses you. he misses you like a flower misses the sun. like the desert misses the rain. like you are the entirety of his being. as if you hold the key to his fierce, thumping bloody heart within the palm of your hands, like he is nothing without you— and perhaps he isn't. he doesn't feel like himself, no, in fact, he feels empty. like a shell of the man he used to be before you. he feels as though the world has lost its color, its meaning, and it makes him feel bare— it makes him feel.
he misses you. he misses the warmth of your perfume, a sweet and spicy blended aroma of saffron and sugared lavender. he misses your smile, all wide and pretty— genuine and charming, and always all for him. he misses the sound of your laughter, raw and boisterous, but sometimes soft and breathy, intimate. he misses your kisses, shy and cloying— yet fierce and angry at times as well. he misses the small things, like the scatter of moles across the expanse of your body that he finds himself counting when he can't fall asleep. or the way you fuss over him, mumbling curses and your love for him all in the same sentence.
he is nothing without you, and he knows it all too well.
the soft jangle of your keys in the lock makes him look up from his journal, the door swinging open. and despite himself, he finds that he's softened underneath your warm, loving gaze. ah, he also misses the sound of your voice, euphonious and soft, a tone you use for him specifically.
❝why are you looking at me like that?❞
he can feel his heart dance within his chest, pounding fiercely as you slant your hip to the side, the very same hips he adores holding onto when swaying with you to music. your eyes, which always seem to sweep him under with their intensity with no fail, are glittering with mirth, it knocks the breath from his chest. ❝ i adore you,❞ he utters— he sounds like a fool in love, and he doesn't particularly mind it. your cheeks flush with color and you playfully roll your eyes. that's alright, you don't need to say it back, he knows.
❝help me with the groceries?❞
he? ⸺ SIMON, gojo satoru, DAMON SALVATORE, soap, older!TANJIRO, scott mccall, GAZ, clark kent, EMMETT CULLEN, leon kennedy, STEVE HARRINGTON, giyu tomioka, JOHN PRICE, loran, ULYSSES, rick grimes, KÖNIG, dick grayson, SPENCER REID.
honestly it can be anyone you envision.
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BG3 Companions' Reactions Following Scratch's Permadeath
The following lines are triggered when a character throws Scratch's ball after he's been permakilled (AKA, killed at camp rather than just as a summon).
Astarion
Good riddance to the dog. Who'd miss that waggy little tail... (devnote: Pretending not to be sad and failing)
Does it have a sad squeak now? Is that even possible?
I suppose I'll just pick it up myself.
Can't believe the stupid dog isn't here to get the stupid ball. (devnote: Pretending not to be sad and failing)
Gale
You were an excellent friend, Scratch - and that's coming from a cat-lover.
I hope there's balls and bones galore, wherever you are...
Poor Scratch. I'm lucky to have met you.
I hope Scratch doesn't miss his ball, wherever he is...
Karlach
I miss my dog.
Here, pup. (devnote: Sadly. The dog is dead and she knows this.)
Why am I doing this to myself?
Scratch should be here. With his family.
Lae'zel
It's not much fun alone.
I really don't know what I thought would happen.
Solo fetch. A miserable pastime.
Can't believe I'm going to say this, but - I miss Scratch.
Shadowheart
I need to stop doing this to myself...
I didn't do this enough, when I had the chance.
I hope Scratch has a new ball to play with, wherever he is...
It's silly... part of me felt like Scratch might still show up for his ball.
Wyll
Fetch isn't much of a solo game.
Damn. I miss the furry fellow.
For old times' sake.
I miss you, Scratch.
Halsin
I hope you are happy, wherever you are.
I am sorry, Scratch
I torment myself - Scratch is not going to come
Poor Scratch. I hope he is at peace.
Jaheira
Enough. This isn't helping anyone.
You deserved better, boy
Gods, but you'd miss the fuss. The noise. Gods above, even the smell.
Pointless, without a pup to chase it.
Minsc
Scratch, come and... oh. How could I forget he was gone, Boo?
No game of fetch will bring Scratch back from death.
I know he is gone, Boo, but... perhaps this is a way of keeping him alive, no?
I miss him, Boo.
Minthara
Everyone assumes I killed the dog. I liked the dog. (devnote: talking to herself. Comic edge to this.)
Scratch reminded me of my first displacer beast. A noble creature.
Withers! Be a good skeleton and fetch that ball. (devnote: joking—doesn't actually expect Withers to fetch the ball she just threw)
Gah. I miss the damn dog. (devnote: surprised by her own feelings)
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