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Although Azulin has been… rough around the edges as of recent, Gordi knows. Azulin is still his brother, no matter what. He can’t help but care for him, despite how much of a total asshole he can be. Loving someone means embracing their flaws, not loving them despite them. He’s been repeating that to himself a lot recently.
But god, Azulin does not make it easy.
He’s rude and jealous. He blames Gordi for things he did. He always has. Gordi has tried to ask him if he’s alright, but it always ends in Azulin either brushing him off (or, depending on how angry he is, spitting in his face). Azulin just seems to despise him some days. Other days, he has his back like nobody else does. Gordi has no idea what prompted this. He just wants to help him, but Azulin has a bad habit of only accepting approval from authority figures, and nobody else.
During his time alone, in the Magical Forest with Azulin presumed dead, he spots two birds. Pink and blue. And they are happy together. They help eachother. He thinks he even saw them touch.
Gordi can’t help but feel deeply, deeply envious.
Why wasn’t that him and his brother? Why couldn’t he and Azulin hug? Why was his brother so fucking pigheaded? And now he’s dead. Because he couldn’t open his eyes and see that life is beauty. That not everybody is a enemy. Why couldn’t Azulin just accept that people do care about him and want him to succeed?
He knows. Deep, deep down, he knows that Azulin hated his own emotions. Knows that he hated himself for caring, and he thought everybody else hated themselves too. He thought the world was full of anger and hate, and nothing more.
It was in his nature. Like the scorpion cannot help stinging the frog that helps it across the river. Gordi does wonder though. Could things have changed if Azulin had been nurtured differently? His poor little brother, done away by his own blindness of the world.
Of course, he sees him across the battlefield later. Although he doesn’t see his brother. Only sees a war criminal and his subordinates. He sees Pompom (he thinks that’s his name?) standing right beside the lieutenant. He seems to be his right hand man.
He wonders if Pompom also has a habit of looking for approval in all the wrong places.
Although Gordi is genuinely a pacifist, he throws the fire at the cannon because sometimes it’s you or them. Gordi decides that he and the unicorns are the best people in this situation. He tries to see the good in everyone, really. But sometimes there is no shred of good in people, or their bad morals far outweigh their good ones.
Of course, then the monster who started to burn the Magical Forest (he doesn’t call it home, hurts too much) is standing right in front of him. His one visible eye widens when he sees him.
“Gordi, don’t you recognize me-”
He removes his mask. And Gordi’s heart shatters like glass.
“-Brother?”
Gordi drops his knife. And he calls out the name of the person who has tormented him so. He calls out the name of the person who has made his life hell. He calls out the name of the person that has been with him since the beginning.
Azulin pushes his knife toward him with no real force behind it. But Gordi knows that Azulin would never hurt him. Not in a million years. He is the exception to his real rage. He pushes the knife away, and it drops out of Azulin’s hand like sand though his fingers.
Gordi grips his brother’s face. His scarred, stitched face. He looks into his eye socket, and his only remaining eye. “Oh,” he thinks, almost hysterically. “Why wasn’t his aim off?” Tears start to flood down Gordi’s face, because his first concern is always Azulin having the best life possible. How will he be treated back out the town? Does Father know?
“You poor thing, what have you done?”
Azulin crumbles like a broken idol. He sobs and sobs, though his tears only come out of one eye. “I’m a monster!” He cries though a strained vocal cords. “This is all my fault, Gordi.”
They sit on the charred grass and they cry. About all that was lost. About Azulin’s face. About being apart from eachother.
Suddenly, a loud whinny echos though the air. And Azulin goes still in Gordi’s arms.
Gordi rushes to Maria, trying to help her calm down. He doesn’t even notice Azulin in his haste to get to Maria, as he pushes him out of the way with his shoulder. Azulin reaches out for him. But he’s already gone.
And Azulin is furious.
He growls, spit falling from his teeth and mouth. How dare he. Azulin is a god in waiting, and he always has been. He has always been destined for something, and he is constantly put in second place. Again and Again and again. By his Mother, but his superiors, and now, his own fucking brother.
He picks up a rock, his amputated arm aching with exhaustion.
And he starts his trek to the heavens.
