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𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘻𝘬𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯

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"𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵," 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥.


𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩’𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘸,
"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦."

"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭?"


"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰."

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𝘝𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺

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»What good is all this talk of wings when there is nothing left above?«

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ⴵ Past | 𝘈𝘶𝘥𝘳𝘢’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 | 𝘈 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯/𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 | 𝘛𝘞: 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

How long can you hold their bloodstained hands before yours are no longer clean?


How long can you claim innocence when you witness—but stay silent?

How many wrongs does it take before we decide someone no longer deserves to live?

And who are we to make that decision for another life?

I told myself I hadn’t done anything wrong.

I hadn’t hurt anyone. Hadn’t killed anyone.

Yet, he told me a hundred times: „You‘re not innocent.“

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. The thing I was guilty of was loyalty. I stayed with him. I looked away. Held my tongue.

Defended him—kept finding reasons to justify it.

I didn’t understand it until then. When he turned, handed me his wand—then finished what he started with his bare knuckles.

It hit me like a punch to the face. Like the one the poacher felt in that moment.

I stood there, watched him kill a man. Again.

And I did nothing.
That makes me an accomplice…right?

When he took his wand back from my shaking fingers—and smiled at me, calm and unbothered—I knew: It had gotten out of hand.

Way out of hand. Again.

Even if he was 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 a poacher, he didn’t have to die like 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.

“You’re the one always saying no more Unforgivables,” he said with a chuckle, like he could read my thoughts.
Maybe he could.

Or maybe the terror I felt was visible in my eyes.

I didn’t respond. I just held onto his arm, trying not to lose it, while he started taunting the others who were still alive—like their lives meant nothing.

I’m starting to wonder: Is he even still aware of what he’s doing?

Ominis used to say the Dark Arts can change the way you think. Alter your brain, eating through you like the Devil’s Snare that is crawling through the hidden Herbology corridor.

We’ve gone too far.

I let him cross too many lines. Again.
𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦.

𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰. 𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰

No, I can’t turn him in.

Why should he carry the blame for both of us?
It has to be 𝘩𝘪𝘴 decision, or I would never forgive myself.

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Eternal Partners from the Unconscious "Fated in shadow. Bound by soul."

For those, who are interested. This is a new attempt at portraying the characters of Audra and Sebastian—a glimpse into the bond between them, and how I imagine them beyond the game.

It helps me visualize and set the mood of my screenshots, capturing how the characters see each other and how they exist in my mind. Their connection is largely inspired by Carl Jung’s theory of the Animus and Anima, along with other psychological archetypes as symbolic elements.

Contains emotionally intense themes, including grief, death, trauma, obsession, and complex relationships. Discretion advised for readers sensitive to emotional/psychological content.

»When Animus and Anima meet, the Animus draws his sword of power, and the Anima releases her poison of seduction and illusion.«

Sebastian The shadow | The sword | The animus ♰ »Sword of power. Death by illusion.«

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A young man shattered by grief, seduced by power, and haunted by guilt. After the death of his twin, he spiraled into obsession with control—over fate, over others, over himself. Power became a promise: that pain could be kept at bay.

He doesn’t cry—he burns. Anger is the only emotion that breaks the surface. Sharp and sudden. Control feels like safety. Knowledge, his armor. Distance, his method of survival. But not heartless—just guarded. Not cruel—only terrified of being seen. Vulnerability frightens him more than violence ever could. He speaks in half-truths and silence, masking softness with sharp thoughts, burying tenderness under structure, and longing beneath restraint. He lives in the ruins of his own making—haunted by a sister’s silence, a friend’s distance, and a woman who sees too much.

That is her gift. That is his curse.

He is the sword—beautiful, sharp, and dangerous to the one who dares to wield it. And the wound that taught her how to bleed. He is her Animus—the projection of male energy—both protective and destructive—that she cannot fully disentangle from her psyche.

"The negative aspects of the animus […] he can even be like a "death demon", keeping the woman from real relationships, caught in dreamy thoughts filled with desire and judgment—cutting her off from life itself."

He is the man who buried himself beneath rage. The man she believes still lives beneath the wreckage. Even when the fire scorches her hands, she reaches again.

Because he once made her feel chosen.

In him, she sees strength, rage, beauty, and rot.

Audra The Mirror | The Flame | The Anima »She who drinks poison and calls it love.« ⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A young woman drawn to light, yet consumed by shadow.

She believed power could heal what life had broken—and sought redemption in love, in understanding, in connection. But found herself tethered to a man whose grief became her own.

Intuitive. Emotional. Endlessly loyal.

Her instincts are sharp, but her compass often spins.

She touches the thorns and convinces herself they won’t cut.

Knows the truth, chooses the lie.

She walks through fire, never asking who lit the match.

What she cannot fix, she forgives.

What he hides, she carries.

Because she knows he would leave if she asked—and so she never does.

She’s the place where all his guilt and longing collapse into something unbearable.

Every memory, every mercy, every part of him he cannot hold without trembling.

Still, in her, he sees salvation—a salvation he begs for, but cannot kneel for.

Obsessed with her light, and yet unable to stand its warmth for long.

Because to love her is to lose control.

She is his judge, his mirror—the reflection he cannot bury.

She is quiet strength—not because she cannot scream, but because she has learned the power of enduring.

She is the flame—not consuming, but the warmth left behind after everything has burned.

She saw beauty in his darkness—not because she was blind, but because she believed even ruin can be softened.

And she touches his ruin like it’s holy. The Collision | Codependency »When two inward forces collide in the outer world, it looks like madness to those who do not recognize the reflection.« ⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Though she wasn’t the architect of his ruin, she studied the blueprints with him. She mistook his confidence for certainty, and his magic for something safe.

She followed him, trusting he wouldn’t lead her astray. Believing they were chasing answers—but it wasn’t truth they found.

It was consequence. They dug too deep. The darkness replied. And he let it speak through him.

They do not always see each other clearly.

He idealizes her without truly understanding her. She romanticizes his chaos, the pain— when it’s tied to "love". He resents her mercy but cannot resist it. She doesn’t see him as perfect—she sees him as worth it. Worth the silence, worth the pain, worth the madness. And he, though too proud to say it, sees her as the only constant who didn’t abandon him.

Their bond is not built on balance but on psychological weight—each carries what the other refuses to confront. What keeps them together is not peace, but recognition. Not compatibility, but reflection.

The crash of opposites: Spirit and flesh. Control and surrender. Illusion and reality.

Fated, perhaps. But not for peace.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[audra1890]

»sun killer sing me to sleep«

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not a question, but i love your photos so much they always look amazing😍😍

Thank you so much 🖤 They also take waay too much time 😂😭

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My love,

Not to be dramatic, but your masked Seb images are the hottest Dark Seb images I have ever seen in my entire life! THANK YOU!!!

Ahhhh thank you so much 😭😭🖤

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