I had free time so I decided to calculate npc height using as reference the height Chart, the sprites in game and a site called hikaku sitatter
This one chart
So to start this one man (I had to do this one separately cuz they don't fit on the damm image)
I think Basilea is using boots or heels so she might be smaller
not completely sure abt Iris here bc I couldn't get a better sprite
And this one guy
For some I had to use more than one comparison to make sure they weren't the same height
Also if someone could get me the full body sprites of each li in good quality (I just have kuras, ais, and leander's) I would be really grateful, anyone pretty please 🙏
>_< I didn't see in your original post that you needed a full body one. I'm sure I've seen someone post one somewhere but here's the full-body from RSS's press kit on their website. There's probably another image like this on RSS's tumblr but like, waaaay back
- mousi
TYSMMMMMMMMM I rlly did try finding it in the backer thingy, but none of them had good quality
It has been quite a while since I writed, I'm out of practice, but I rlly had to
Had this idea while hearing dangerously yours x TV girl
I kinda relate some parts of Imitadora from Romeo Santos with him now, I miss my man so much
Thank you for your feedback! @mysticmelodiesoftheforest
Word count: 10.2k
Warning: Slight spoilers from ch1, power imbalance, obsessive behavior, small despictions of blood, suggestive content, headcanons
Summery: After ais abandoned you between the corpses and blood, you find yourself unable to forget him, knowing you shouldn't go back, knowing what awaits for you, what he is and what he has done, you return, looking for him once again.
You wake up once again — cold sheets, messy hair, and a weariness that seeps right into your bones, tangled with fear… or perhaps disappointment. The memories of that night are etched into your skin like a bloodstain on white fabric, impossible to wash away. Every moment since then has felt like a struggle. Ocudeus has been watching you, day in and day out. Sometimes you stay awake as long as you possibly can; other nights you fall asleep the second your eyelids grow heavy, just hoping to catch a glimpse of him… even if he is not the one observing you.
The days and nights only grow darker. Ocudeus follows you everywhere, slipping through you like a ghost. You see it in mirrors, in every reflective surface, its eyes glowing as if tracking your every move. It feels as though even the air you breathe is saturated with its attention.
Time slips by in a monotonous blur. You try to follow the advice he left you with, but your mind always drifts back to him, to the way he fought for breath, the blood running down his arm, the look in his eyes before he walked away. You are caught between two terrible choices, drinking from the seaspring, or never lay eyes on him again…
You rise slowly from the bed; your tired bones let out soft creaks as you stretch. You look down at your hands, and your thoughts circle back to his words that first night together “Is the thought of living with it really so unbearable?”
Is the price truly worth paying? you ask yourself. If you hadn’t gone looking for him that day, would any of this have happened? Memories keep flooding in, the warmth of his arms around you, the sound of his voice, the way he kissed your knuckles… and those three simple words, “I like you” still echoing in your mind, even after he left you behind amidst the slaughter and forced you to make this impossible choice.
You aren’t ready, you need more time, yet at the same time, you ache to see him again. Even if he is a monster. Even with Ocudeus dwelling within his body. Even knowing he could end your life in an instant, you long to feel that peculiar mix of irritation and frustration that only he can stir in you. You just want to be near him.
You get ready quickly and step out long before dawn breaks. The sky hangs low with a thin mist, and far on the horizon, dark clouds gather like a coming storm. The air hits your face — crisp, biting cold, exactly as you expected… and exactly how it has felt ever since you arrived here. You make your way across the wastelands, and the moment the building comes into view, your chest tightens with a flurry of feeling between anxiety, excitement, fear… all tangled together, overwhelming and bright. Step by step you climb the stairs, until once again you stand before that hellish place.
Princess seems to be playing with another soulless, tugging some kind of toy back and forth between them. But the instant she spots you, she lets go, and the other soulless collapses on the far side. She practically bounds toward you, pressing her head hard against your thigh, demanding affection. You stroke the top of her head, and she nuzzles eagerly into your palm. When you pull away, she grabs hold of your clothes and starts dragging you toward Ais room, which looks even more chaotic and cluttered than the last time you were here.
As you step inside, you see him. He looks as if he’s just woken up; he scratches his head, seemingly ignoring your arrival. You take a few steps further in, while Princess still clings insistently to your legs, and a heavy knot forms in your throat. He is shirtless, and for a moment you find yourself drinking in the sight of his back as he reaches for clothes from the dresser. He dresses quickly, almost impatiently, as if desperate to keep his mind occupied. The muscles shift and stretch beneath his skin as he pulls the fabric over himself, and you cannot look away — until his voice cuts through the silence.
“Do you enjoy watching people get dressed?”
That familiar tone sends heat rushing straight to your cheeks, and you snap your gaze away.
“I didn’t mean to—”
He cuts you off before you can even begin to deny it.
“I assume you’re here to drink. Go ahead, then.”
His voice is cold, indifferent, and he doesn’t even bother to glance your way. That detachment leaves a bitter-sweet taste in your mouth.
“Ais…”
His shoulders slump, already knowing what you are about to say. Princess keeps shoving you toward him; you try to resist, but you end up bumping right against his back. He steps away sharply, and his hand brushes against yours for just a split second before he finally turns to face you.
“Ais, I wanted—”
“Drink or leave. I’m not in the mood.”
Princess bites lightly at his boot, trying to drag him toward you with all her might. You can tell his patience is wearing thin. He sighs heavily and orders her to leave in a firm, unyielding voice. She obeys at once, lowering her head and slipping away, though not without brushing one of her tendrils softly against your feet in a gentle goodbye.
Now it is just the two of you, and he still looks thoroughly displeased.
“Tsk… why did you come?” He clicks his tongue, glancing at you from time to time as if he simply cannot help himself, even when he tries.
“I think I deserve an explanation.”
“If you aren’t here to drink, then leave.”
Instead of backing down or walking away, you stand your ground, blocking the doorway, brows drawn tight and resolve set firm. He raises an eyebrow at you and steps closer, slowly, deliberately, until he is standing right in front of you. It feels like he is trying to intimidate you. Every instinct in your body screams at you to run, to get away before it is too late, but you came here for him, and you are not leaving unless he drags you out himself.
“You’re being too stubborn today, little sparrow,” he says. His eyes lock onto yours for several heartbeats before he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the room.
“If you’re going to drink, then drink. I won’t stop you.” He lets go abruptly, as if touching you burns him. You know he is holding back—holding back so much.
“I didn’t come here for the seaspring, Ais… I came for you. What is happening to you?”
He says nothing.
“Why did you leave me behind?”
The silence hangs heavier than any answer ever could. The low, steady sound of the seaspring fills your ears. You stare down at your shoes, waiting, but slowly, painfully, the hope of getting a reply fade away. Still, you cannot let it end like this. You cannot just walk away without knowing the truth…
You take a deep breath and start moving toward him. This time, he is the one who retreats.
“At least… tell me you never want to see me again.”
You take another step; he takes another back.
“Say it. I need to hear you say it.”
He clicks his tongue again and closes his eyes, fighting to keep his fraying patience intact.
“I’m not coming back. Never. Do you understand that?”
He opens his eyes, looking down at you through heavy-lidded lashes. His gaze feels piercing, and it reminds you sharply of how Ocudeus watches everything through him. His silence stings deeper than you ever imagined it could.
You bite your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Suddenly, reckless courage surges through you, and you throw yourself toward him. Desperate, you reach out to touch him, but he catches your wrists instantly. Yet there is no real force in his grip — so you keep trying, and finally your skin brushes against his. Even then, he tries to push you away, fighting your touch… but when you manage to wrap your arms tight around him, he still struggles to pull free. You cannot bear it any longer, you slide your hands up to lock behind his neck and hold him there with all your strength, refusing to let go.
For the first time, he stops resisting. He leans into your embrace, hesitantly winding his arms around your waist. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in deeply… His scent fills your senses, his warmth wraps around you completely, and his hands trace paths across your skin before rising to cup your face. You close your eyes; every sensation feels sharper, more vivid than ever before.
His hands hold your face tenderly yet firmly, and you can feel his gaze resting on you — intense, brimming with emotions you are dying to understand. As you cling to him, your lips brush against his almost by accident it's just the lightest touch, lasting barely a second, but enough to shift everything.
“Ais” you whisper right against his mouth, your breath coming fast and shallow.
“Sparrow…” His voice is soft, like a caress against your ears.
You both struggle to catch your breath. His eyes are half-lidded as he gazes at your lips through his lashes.
“You shouldn’t have come here, sparrow,” he says, and there is pain in his tone, quiet, hidden, but unmistakable.
Desperation rises in him too, and he can no longer hold back. He presses you hard against the nearest wall, as if trying to merge your bodies into one, his lips hovering just above yours, barely restrained. Nothing else matters now, not the blood, not the tears, not the salt lingering on your skin — nothing can stop him. You tangle your fingers in his hair, clutch at his clothes, cling to him as if he is your very lifeline. You tremble, caught between the chill of the room and the heat radiating from him, completely lost in his warmth.
He kisses your neck slowly, and you shiver beneath his warm mouth — but you never let go, not even for a moment. Little by little, you lose yourself in soft touches, breathless whispers, half-kisses that barely meet, and waves of heat and cold washing over you until, before you even realize it, everything has shifted completely. By the time you open your eyes, he is above you. Your hair is spread out across his pillow, feeling the messy sheets beneath your skin, he holds your waist firmly, possessively, while those same tentacles that first emerged from his tattoo coil around you, wrapping tight and sure, they slide across the mattress, wrapping around your ankles, your knees, your arms, clinging to you with the same intensity with which he looks at you.
It’s already too late to have second thoughts. That thing...the essence that lives within him and mingles with his own soul, has already claimed you as its own. And now that he has you in his arms, it flatly refuses to let you go.
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