A Song of Wolves and Fictional Underdogs

lionkingfreak:

Let’s just take a moment to fully grasp the horrendous monstrosity unfolding with this gif.
Mufasa always knew there was tension between his brother and him, especially since Scar was pretty much thrown on the back-burner of society; but I’m sure he had no idea how much hate Scar had building up for him. They’re siblings, brothers, after all; you’re supposed to at least TRY to get along with each other!
He’s just recovered from rescuing his only child, his son, Simba, from death. Can you imagine the stress that was lifted off his shoulders, the relief he felt when he knew Simba would live another day? Mufasa must’ve still been exhausted, though, after all that running in the stampede. He was right about to run out of energy, when he saw Scar, an opportunity to save his own life.
Mufasa called out to him, saying: “Brother! Help me!” in the most desperate tone, hoping that Scar would be close enough to aid him. He knew that the slightest slip would send him careening down to his death, and the wild frenzy in his eyes definitely showed his fear.
When Scar gripped onto his brother’s paws, Mufasa must have wondered why Scar used such force, why he used his claws. The gears in his head must have started turning, thinking: Something’s not right. And the look Scar was giving him, that sadistic smirk; why would he have such a vile expression on?
Then, the words: “Long live the king.”
That’s definitely not a good sign. If Scar was really planning on helping him, he would have pulled his brother up already. Why these words? They were brothers! Brothers!
Scar let go. Mufasa fell, arms flailing, still reaching out for his only hope. His mind probably registered the fact that he was going to die in the midst of his drop. But by then it was too late.
The king was dead.

Let’s just take a moment to fully grasp the horrendous monstrosity unfolding with this gif.

Mufasa always knew there was tension between his brother and him, especially since Scar was pretty much thrown on the back-burner of society; but I’m sure he had no idea how much hate Scar had building up for him. They’re siblings, brothers, after all; you’re supposed to at least TRY to get along with each other!

He’s just recovered from rescuing his only child, his son, Simba, from death. Can you imagine the stress that was lifted off his shoulders, the relief he felt when he knew Simba would live another day? Mufasa must’ve still been exhausted, though, after all that running in the stampede. He was right about to run out of energy, when he saw Scar, an opportunity to save his own life.

Mufasa called out to him, saying: “Brother! Help me!” in the most desperate tone, hoping that Scar would be close enough to aid him. He knew that the slightest slip would send him careening down to his death, and the wild frenzy in his eyes definitely showed his fear.

When Scar gripped onto his brother’s paws, Mufasa must have wondered why Scar used such force, why he used his claws. The gears in his head must have started turning, thinking: Something’s not right. And the look Scar was giving him, that sadistic smirk; why would he have such a vile expression on?

Then, the words: “Long live the king.”

That’s definitely not a good sign. If Scar was really planning on helping him, he would have pulled his brother up already. Why these words? They were brothers! Brothers!

Scar let go. Mufasa fell, arms flailing, still reaching out for his only hope. His mind probably registered the fact that he was going to die in the midst of his drop. But by then it was too late.

The king was dead.

(Source: pixiedustcaps, via isleptpassnoon)

3 months ago · 458 notes · originally from pixiedustcaps
#lion king

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