#phycological

[ironpersondreamgoop]

What Was I Made For? (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/364744075-what-was-i-made-for?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=KittyCatalyst2021  Alastor stood at the precipice, where reality seemed to fracture and the very essence of Hell itself was laid bare before him. The void gaped-a monstrous maw of oblivion that defied comprehension. It was the thing of whispers in the dark corners of taverns, where even the hardened sinners dared not speak its name with anything but reverence and dread. It was a chasm so profound, so impossibly vast, that it drank in the light and substance around it, rendering the world pallid and insubstantial by comparison. Here was the end of all ends, the finality reserved for those who perished yet again within the infernal depths. To know of its existence was one matter; to witness its unyielding hunger was an affliction on the soul.

[yeonsols-garden]

OMG BABES WAKE UP CHAPER 139 OF YEONWOO'S INNOCENCE JUST DROPPED!!!

time for my weekly dose of depression.

[1amnotokaywithth1s]

The urge to disappear

I hear about people fantasizing about running away from reality, but I find it impossible to do so. Even if you lived in a small wood shack with nothing but you and a near by swamp, the basic human needs are not being met, things like social reactions and basic fun. I also think your stress would not magically disappear, because that is also not possible, or made possible by running away. The guilt will catch up and devour your soul eventually. You will still fear for the future, and how you will make a living, because of basic human nature. If you are trying to leave to escape something that is happening in your life, it will still be there, nagging at your brain, like a mosquito buzzing in your ear while you are trying to sleep. It is impossible for all of your fears to simply vanish.

[thelostmoongazer]

pomnipomnipomnipomnipomnipomipominpomipipmp,,immpio,iomiopsicdompsiop

[rocketyship]

BillFord short comic

I wasn’t expecting so many people to like my Bill design, so I wiped this up pretty quick, hope you like it💕

(Yes I’m aware this pairing is toxic, I like the concept of it and what it adds to the overall story and the characters)

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober Day 19:

"I'll take one final step, all you have to do is make me." 

Floral Bouquet | Phycological | "I'm not as stupid as you think I am." 

Fandom: Tmnt 

Prompts used: kinda all?

This one was a little rushed, a little rough, because I'm paranoid enough as it is thank you. I mushed together the bits and pieces I know of the different tmnts here so you can picture a little of everything I guess. I didn't use a lot of context, but I can give some if anyone wants any. Also, the flower language is from a specific list of them I found, and is probably just confusing, but my brain made me do it.

TW for Stalking and mortal danger by an entity? 

…

The floral bouquet is dead and rotting, gnats flying around the shriveled petals, it could have been considered pretty once- if not a seemingly random arrangement- but Mikey, an artist who appreciated color and nature, was more concerned about how it ended up here, on his bed. 

Mikey's heart beats wildly, realizing how out of hand this may be getting. It had started simply, with the occasional feeling of being watched when he and his brothers were out doing whatever, but it always went away when he went to mention it to his brothers so he assumed it was just a very dedicated animal or something. But then it had been little notes by some of his street art, it could have been flattering if not for the undertone of obsession Mikey felt from the words. And now, in his secret studio- an abandoned train car he'd claimed to get some peace- he finds a dead bunch of flowers on the bed he uses when he's too tired to head home. 

If they figured out his brother's patrol route and favorite spots, where his tags are around the city, and now his secret studio, did that mean they also found the lair?? The security around the sewers was always improving- between Leatherhead and Donnie's brains and Leo's paranoia, it was an ever updated thing- but even though Mikey's studio was closer to the surface- on a closed off track of course- it was still technically the sewers. And far too close to the lair for Mikey's liking. 

If his family was found… it would be all his fault, simply because he didn't say anything. He had to be in way over his head, he should have at least told Leatherhead, he always knew how to make Mikey feel heard and then maybe if the croc was convinced they could have brought the issue up together, but now… 

No, he had his Tphone, he may not be able to go back into the sewers, but he could call… it was serious now but would his brothers believe him? He pulls out the device, eyeing the doors to his subway car anxiously, it rings for only a couple moments, 

"Michaelangelo, how are you?" Leatherhead's smooth timbre fills his ear and he feels his chest ease, if only slightly. 

"Hey LH, I uh… need your help." 

He explains what he knows, practically feeling the tension growing on the other end of the line. 

"I'm assuming you haven't spoken to your brothers yet as you called me with this?" There's no judgment, like Mikey is used to. 

"Not…yet. This could all be nothing, or-" 

"Michaelangelo, for all of you and your brother's antics, this is not that. You said you are in a closed off subway tunnel, can you give me an approximate location? I will see if my scanners can reach that far, I may be able to see any disturbances. I will also check the cameras for any movement near our homes, rest assured." 

Mikey lets out a long sigh, 

"Thanks Leatherhead." 

Mikey's eyes are drawn to a poster April had gotten him a while ago, when he'd learned that flowers had their own language it had intrigued him into wanting to learn- he may not be able to buy flowers but he could paint them for his family anyway. April had been nice enough to get him a vintage poster with a list of flowers and their meanings. His heart rate picks up again, ever so slightly, as he walks closer, finding red smudges on the laminated sheet over several flowers. His eyes flicker to the bouquet. 

Acacia, Balsam, Bluebell, Dock, Geranium, Jonquil, Maiden's hair, motherwort.

Concealed love, impatience, I will be constant, patience, I expect a meeting, I desire a return of affection, discretion, secret love. 

"Michaelangelo!" He startles, raising his phone again, having lowered his hand in his horror. 

"I'm here. Sorry." His voice sounds off, strained, he takes a shaky breath.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" From the sounds of it, Leatherhead had been trying to get his attention for a while. 

"I think I'm in trouble." He snaps a picture of the poster and sends it to the croc, alongside a photo of the dead flowers for context. 

It's quiet on the line for a moment, and Mikey's shoulders are tense enough to hurt as his eyes dart around his studio, trying to find anything else wrong. 

"Michaelangelo-" a ding cuts off whatever LH was preparing to say and an intake of breath is not helping his shoulders, "I wish to remind you, that you are a ninja. I have alerted your family, but as of right now I need you to remain calm, understood?" And Mikey takes a breath, because the croc is right, "My devices have caught movement near your location. It is not one of our known allies. You need to move, and keep moving, until we can catch up with you. Keep your T-Glass on you, we will track you, we will find you, just remember your training." 

Mikey knows that means he has to put the phone down. Knows that he has to move, alone and being chased by someone with an obvious obsession. 

"Alright… don't be late." Mikey tries for joking, but the tension has reached his throat. 

"You can do this Michaelangelo." 

He tucks his phone away, the words ringing in his head, the conviction in the statement calms his heart as he falls into stance and runs.

"Leatherhead, we're tracking Mikey's location, but what exactly is going on??" Leonardo is in the lead, T-glass down to give him directions. 

"I'm afraid he has garnered some unwanted attention. A stalker, a dangerous one it sounds like." 

"What?? How da heck does that happen??" Raph nearly stumbles at the news, keeping Donnie from tripping as the distracted turtle looks at his wrist hud.

"Youre saying Mikey's been dealing with this long enough to call it a stalker??" Leonardo's heart aches at the thought- whether with anger or hurt he couldn't tell you.

"I can't find whoever it is on any of our cameras, but the scanners have them right behind Mikey. I don't like this." Donnie looks up from the hud so he can go faster, Raph and Leo doing the same.

"I am coming from the other direction, I have notified April as well. She and Casey will provide support." Leatherhead explains, and they can hear a splash on the other line. 

"Sensei's been alerted just in case, he should be heading back now, but I'm hoping we wont need him." Leo pushes his legs faster, eyeing the dots on his display with a knotted stomach. 

"Leo we have no idea if this is a Yokai, Mutant, or one of our many enemies, how are we supposed to prepare-" 

"Dey're after our brotha Don, we'll be prepared." Raph interrupts, fists clenched and eyes burning with determination. 

"Right… you're right." 

"'Course I am."

The sewers are more of a maze than anyone topside could ever know, Mikey's pretty sure half of this wasn't part of any human made construction, but what does he know? Well he knows he's most definitely getting himself lost, his T-Glass may be showing his location and the detectors around the sewers are definitely picking up disturbances, but he can't say he recognizes where he is with any confidence right now. He's moving on instinct at this point, just keeping whoever this is away from the places they need to stay away from, but that results in unknown territory.

His feet hit air, and only years of training in dark tunnels keeps him from falling, shoulders straining for a new reason. The flashlight on his T-Glass turns on to shine below, it's not too far but a wrong move could mean a bad ankle at best. He looks back up, prepared to pull himself up, when his light shines directly on a face- if one could call the grin split shadow a face. Mikey screams, pushes off the ledge and does his best imitation of an armadillo in his landing. He's positive something cracks and he doesn't know if he prefers it to be a bone or his shell. 

He finds a pipe to press his shell against, light illuminating the space in front of him. He knows he should turn it off and use his ninja skills, but Mikey has a feeling that may not be his best bet here, and for once he's gonna listen to said feeling- no Bro's to yell at him yet. A chuckle echoes around the space,

"That was quite the chase my dear rose." The voice sends a chill down Mikey's spine, it sounds like one voice overlapping over itself like an echo of a creaky door. 

"Who are you!? W…what do you want!?" Mikey is out of breath, a terror gripping his chest that doesn't allow any room to catch it. 

"Balsam. Bluebell. Jonquil." 

(Impatience. I will be constant. I desire a return of affection.)

"Well, I don't return your affection! It's creeping me out dude! No means no!" Mikey may never be able to look at a flower again. 

"Furze. Eglantine. And if need be, locust. Nightshade. I shall parsley." 

(Anger. I wound to heal. Affection beyond the grave. Bitter truth. Feasting.) 

"S-stop hiding behind flowers! I don't care what you want, I'm not gonna do it!" 

"Love in a mist. Dogwood? Phlox, jonquil!

(You puzzle me. Am I indifferent to you? Our souls are united. I desire a return of affection!) 

"I don't know what you're saying dude, but the answer is still NO!" Mikey still cant see him, cant hear his movements, can feel his eyes- though he hadn't seen them, only a too wide smile…

"Then I will wound, and you will heal of this!" The shout rings out as something comes from the darkness, Mikey rolls sideways as a spike impales the pipe where he'd been. 

"Cowabummer…" Mikey mutters to himself, heart in his throat. 

"Your wits may fall short, but I will have you!" 

The statement hits different for some reason. Perhaps years of being the dumb one have stacked too high, or his anger has built up too much, or maybe it's because his being cant fight back against the words with the false hope of 'family jokes around. They love you.' To quell the hurt of each insult. This guy is not family, he is a creep that's been following him for weeks, who wants him for something- claims to love him- and yet calls him low on wits and tries to frickin stab him?! 

"You are a hypocrite dude! And I'm not as stupid as you think I am!" Mikey does three things in quick succession. 

A flash bomb lights up the space in one quick flash, in the brief moment he spots the shadowy gooey form he throws a prototype of a 'paint bomb' he'd been working on, and three shuriken. The light fades before he can see if they hit, but an earsplitting shriek fills the echoing cavern he's found himself in. 

"Furze! Locust! Parsley!"

(Anger! Affection beyond the grave! Feasting!)

A flurry of spikes flies from the darkness, he dodges, wincing at each hole added to the hopefully unimportant pipe. Two pikes come at once, knocking him off his feet, his head smacks into the ground, the light from his T-Glass flickers and dims, his head spins as something wet slides down the side of his face. 

"Eglantine." He's flipped onto his shell, a wave of nausea hitting him, "Orange flower, you are mine now, I'll take one final step, all you have to do is make me. Jonquil."

(I wound to heal. Exhilaration and fervor. I desire a return of affection.")

The face swims in his vision, two endless hallows where eyes might have been, that face splitting grin has gone feral, and the body it dangles from is huge and blobby, with a wide gaping mouth full of too many teeth embedded in it. Mikey is reminded of a video game mimic, except this one has embraced its horrible self. 

"Never." 

Another screech fills the space, the wide maw of below coiling up like a spring ready to release, Mikey braces himself-

"RAAAAAAHHHHH!!" A battle cry, oh so familiar, interrupts several bodies- though that could be Mikey's split vision- barrel into the thing and Mikey takes in a full breath, not having realized it was crushing his plastron so firmly. 

"Mikey! Talk to me brother!" Donnie appears above him, lit by Mikeys dim T-Glass as his own shines in his eyes for only a moment before adjusting. 

"Pink Variegated." He murmurs, hearing another shriek, though he can't tell if it's in response to him or the fighting, "Tired." He says louder, for Donnie.

(Refusal)

"We've got you now. Dont worry. We got you- Stay awake Mikey! MIKEY!"

His eyes blink open, squinted and blurry, taking in bright colored shapes to his left,

"I swear if those are flowers I'm disowning myself." He couldn't say if the sentence was comprehensible, but the sentiment must have been as someone chuckles.

"It's an edible arrangement. April thought it more fitting." 

"Nomore flowers." Mikey mumbles to the figure, flinching only slightly at the extended arm that comes towards him. 

The clawed hand is gentle as it rests on his head, warm and worn and familiar. 

"Rest my son. There are no flowers here."

[dark333rose]

[aurora-batty]

Daisy Darker

So, I started seeing some buzz about this book on Instagram and then I saw that if you bought the book from an indie shop it would come with stenciled edges and that hooked me. I had been looking for a book to reward myself for acing a very important test and I had found my reward. I had to get this book. Set in a crumbling secluded castle owned by Daisy Darker’s 80-year-old eccentric…

[mugene-art]

gifts for microbio and paleo enthusiasts! :DD

[2tcs]

I love your content so far from what I read and I had a crack I did just hit me

After a while the bat family finally decides to get rid of Ra al Ghul like take him down and take his position from him as the leader of the League of assassins to dismantle it

Ra al Ghul never warned anyone if they want to actually become like the main watcher over the Lazarus pits but they have to go to a 2000 door haunted house run by the ghost King who is 15 years old

So I'll be entire bat family is practically being put through spooky's haunted house 1000 doors except it's Phantom haunted house 2000 doors

Danny believes that anyone that wants the Lazarus pits is undirectly like a bad person so he kind of uses it to a trauma dump on people and be mentally tortured these people so they drop out of taking it

He's getting help from Ghost like Ember Techn, Poindexter, Wulf even cujo

Like they put Ra al Ghul through hell and now they're going to put the bat family to that because they have no idea or not if they're good people

So it's just Danny traumatizing them by making with the horrors and some of the deaths of the ghost the last shocker is at the last door they have to relive Danny's death then Danny will come out and hand them a key and then proceed to give them the whole feel about being the new owners of Lazarus pits

I just enjoy the idea of Danny and the ghost being terrifying

I don't think Danny knows enough ghosts to pull off 2000 doors but he does know Ghost Writer. As well as several ghosts who could make them relive each other's worst/most traumatic moments. Ras probably went alone when he did his trial. But if the whole batfam is going in? So much ammo.

It could start out simple. Lure them into a sense of ease.

---

"Huh. When the scary voice said we would be facing trials to prove our worth. I didn't expect sentient, cuddly blobs." Duke said petting one of the blobs that was chirping happily. Not noticing as his fellow vigilantes and friends also began to cuddle the blobs.

It takes them three hours before they realize that they've lost time and begin to fight the calming effect that the blobs exude and head towards the door on the other side of the room.

---

And maybe embarrassing.

---

"Once upon a time."

"WHY THE FUCK AM I WEARING TIGHTS!"

"I don't know. I think they look good."

"Shut up dickface."

---

Even a bit annoying at times.

---

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

"WTF! This guy is more annoying than Condiment King!"

"At least he isn't dumping ketchup on us!"

---

The first few hundred doors could even be called easy for people like the bats.

---

"Quit hitting yourself. Quit hitting yourself." Jason said after he ripped off the robot's arm and started to use it to beat the robot.

"Hay. Don't you think you're going too far Hood?"

"Stop your incelence! For I. Skulker. The greatest hunter ever. Shall be the one to skin you alive and use your pelts as a rug in my den!"

"You were saying Dickolase?"

"Give me the other arm. I want to break this pinata open."

---

But that ease does not last long. Soon they are faced with the suffering of others.

---

"What was that. What was that!" Steph shouted as she clung to Tim. Trembling from the adrenalin rush.

"I think. I think we just died? In a motorcycle crash? Did we just get hit by a CAR while on a MOTORCYCLE?!"

"That motorcycle crash was quick compared to how I died! So shut the fuck up!" Jason yelled before stomping toward the next door. And if his hand was shaking as he reached for the doorknob? No, they weren't

---

And even faced with the consequences of their failures. Failures that nearly tore them apart. Failures that could still tear them apart.

---

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Shut up old man! You never asked! You weren't there! You're Never There!"

---

And temptations.

---

Dick looked around as his family piled into the living room of the manor. Everyone was laughing at something Duke said. Jason laughed the loudest as he slung his arm over Tim's shoulder for support. (Wrong, this is wrong, why is this wrong?)

---

And nightmares.

---

"Give them back! GIVE THEM BACK!" Bruce screamed to the sky as he clutched his kids as close to him as he could. Falling into despair as their bodies, their corpses, grew colder. The echos of their own cries of pain and anguish ringing in his ears.

---

They still manage to fight through the physical and psychological horror. Even when they are pushed to experience torture that not even their most vial villain would do to them.

---

"I'm alive! I'm me! Mom! Dad! Please! Please!" "Shut up you freak! Honey, get the muzzle. I don't want to hear its lies anymore." The woman, the monster, in the teal hazmat suit said as she pulled out their intestine and hung it on a rack for further examination.

---

They persevered. And when they leave the last door behind? And are faced with a young boy, no older than 14, who looks like an amalgamation of all of the Robins when they were that age?

---

Danny watched as the would-be-owner of the Lazarus Pits stumbled through the door. Only for an entire group of Kevlar waring fruitloops to fall out of the door.

"So you are the fools who think to control the blood of King Lazarus. So far you have seen many facets of the horrors that can come from..." Danny started his monologue before he was interrupted by the one wearing a cloak reminiscent of a bat falling to his knees.

"Please. Please say we don't have to fight you. I can't. I can't." He said before breaking down in tears as several others joined him in his cry fest.

"Shit." Danny said as he looked at the people before him. Panicking over what he was supposed to do.

[neat-deadandlive-things]

I have tried books.

I have tried primary literature.

I have tried online picture keys.

I will now resort to looking at pictures of these unidentifed algal cells on my computer screen and yelling "WHAT ARE YOU WHAT ARE YOU WHAT ARE YOU?!" and crying.

[phlesbianintermission]

a small summary of today’s bluesky saga

[edited to remove the alarms/firecrackers/loudest noises :)]

twt screenshots taken from this post

[polydeuces]

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; You linger in Dexter Morgan’s shadows, close enough to feel the darkness he hides so well. You know his secrets, his rituals, the thrill he keeps hidden from the world. Silently, you wait for that perfect moment to step into his path—so he can finally see that he’s been hunted all along.

𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (688words) mentions of cults, stalking, potential violence, intrusive thoughts, and elements of psychological tension.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

He was supposed to be the predator.

You’d watched him for a year now, the man who walked through the world with an all too familiar blend of invisibility and quiet command. Dexter Morgan, a blood–spatter analyst by day and something far more dangerous by night. But those were his surface-level disguises. You’d begun to peel back the layers, unraveling the nuances of a man who navigated life in the shadows, just as you have for so many years now.

It started innocently enough—fleeting moments when you’d caught sight of him on the crowded Miami streets, merging into the sea of faces like he belonged there. But you knew better. You knew what it was to wear masks, to walk amoung people undetected, unseen and unnoticed. There was something about him, the way he looked at the world, made him all the more intriguing.

So you watched. Carefully, hidden, with a patience you’d honed over years of practice, you observed him as he slipped out of his office at night, slightly tense in his gaze, focused, distant, as if he were listening to something only he could hear. Often times, you’d follow him to the places he frequented; his home, abandoned warehouses, places where the thin line between light and darkness blurred. You learned his routines, the way he’d pull his signature black gloves onto his hands, the way his eyes would sweep across the streets with a meticulous attention to detail before stepping into his own hidden rituals.

It fascinated you.. his dance, this performance between worlds. His life was a careful balance of precision and secrecy. And then there were his victims. You’d seen him work, watched from the edges as he sized up those he deemed worthy enough. You hadn’t intervened— after all, it wasn’t about them. It was about him. You needed to understand his purpose, what drove him and what rulebook or code tethered him to this life.

You began to study his life beyond the night as well, picking up pieces of Dexter Morgan, the man, the father, the blood-spatter analyst, the widower, the mask. You’d slip into his world unnoticed, lingering at places he went during the day; you listened to his colleagues, his sister and the casual comments that painted a picture of someone, friendly, yet distant, the “nice guy” who kept to himself.

You learned his patterns, his preferences, even the small, old habits he indulged in when he thought no one was watching. You uncovered the Dexter he showed to the world, the façade that kept his true nature hidden.

But you could see it—the subtle tension in his jaw, the guarded look in his eyes that surfaced when someone got too close, the small tells of a hidden life. The knowledge inside you—the kind of intimacy that was both exhilarating and forbidden—you knew him in a way no one else did, knew him not by the lies he told, but by the silence he kept.

So, you kept waiting, biding your time. You wanted him to know that he been seen, that he wasn’t as invisible as he thought. You wanted him to understand that he was no longer the only one who lived by a code of shadows. You watched him for countless nights—slipping in and out of his world like a phantom, leaving a sense of unease that you knew would begin to gnaw at him.

Until finally, one night, you decided it was time.

do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.

note; i have a taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !

important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show.

[lichenaday]

Acarospora bullata

Cracked lichen

Hey. . . hey buddy . . . respectfully, what the fuck? A. bullata is an areolate-subsquamulose crustose lichen that grows on mostly upland, siliceous rock in Asia, Europe, North and South America. It has rounded to angular areoles that become more elongated and fan-shaped around the margin of the thallus. Its upper surface is shiny yellow-brown, red-brown, or dark brown, and its lower surface is darker brown-black. It has round to irregular apothecia which have a lumpy disc so that they look like a bubbling little pot of baked beans (the nicest descriptor I could muster, honestly). A. bullata has a green algal photobiont, and contains gyrophoric and lecanoric acid.

images: source | source

info: source | source | source

[fungusqueen]

I took a 2-part online Seaweed Class through Backcountry Press, and our instructor sent us a class resource page. I revisited it for the book recommendations but I saw that she included some websites of small business that sell ethically harvested seaweed products.

This Sea Vegetable Sample Kit from Main Coast Sea Vegetables is quite charming! I've been searching for dried seaweeds at my local Korean market but the packaging rarely lists the species type, so the scientific names give me reference for my own culinary research.

Ugh! And this Kelp Krunch bar is kind of adorable. I have no idea how it would taste but I think I might like it. I also feel like this is the type of snack that would scare the wrong people away, if that was your goal. Like if someone is in your space or won't leave you alone, you can pull out the Kelp Krunch and start crunching and say, "sorry, I hope my seaweed breath doesn't bother you!" and they'll promptly leave and think it was their idea. I am super curious about the kit/this snack and I might want to get it for myself for Christmas.

[little-witchys-garden]

I wanna rant about the live-action lion king vs the animated lion king.

I don't like how they made scar. For me as a kid one of the scariest things about scar was that he would hold simba. In every scene we see scar and simba in together, scar is always reaching out to hold him close or act like a caring uncle.

We know that scar has bad intentions but it makes sense that simba wouldn't see those bad intentions because scar always reaches out for him, holds him close, smiles at him, claims he only wants the best for simba, andalways comes off as a strange yet caring affectionate uncle, who's protective.

we know simba truly does love his uncle, we can see in his scenes with scar that he trusts scar and is affectionate with him.

Scar plays the part of a eccentric, playful and affectionate uncle so well, so when he tells the hyenas

" kill him"

right after pulling simba in and holding his grieving nephew, it made my lil jaw drop. I was SHOCKED because I thought as a kid that he has a shred of love for simba and didn't really wanna kill him.

No, scar was just super manipulative.

it was all just manipulation. That's what made scar scary for me as a kid because he pretended he loved simba so effortlessly.

Scar always reached out for simba first, that stayed in my mind for years.

In the live action lion king, scar doesn't feel do any of that. I don't think he ever even touches simba other then in like 2 scenes...

It really bothered me that they took those scenes out, I felt like those scenes showed how truly manipulative, cunning and apathetic that scar truly was.