Without creation, there would be no destruction and without destruction, nothing would be created.

Rin was doomed from the very start— although he couldn’t tell what the start was anymore. He didn’t have parents, primordial Gods came to be with the very essence of the universe, stemming from nothingness. A while before (because time hadn’t been a concept back then) he’d been brought to conscious, the sheer nothingness that made up the expanse of space churned to put together a being— Rin’s older brother, Sae, the God of Creation.

Sae was the light, he healed and mended and was at the root of everything. Rin embodied the destruction, death and carnage that came with existence. The moment minor Gods began popping up, he was outcasted, feared. He didn’t exactly mind; he never cared. He hated this, the world, the people. They were so tedious and meaningless, there was nothing for their existence to achieve. From the moment he opened his eyes, he wished to level everything.

Wherever he went, chaos ensured. Crops withered and died, cracks appeared in buildings, even the Gods’ places of residence, animals died and humans fell ill. He could never understand what made you so special. You were one of the minor Gods, and you represented peace. And peaceful you were- people were drawn to you like a drug. You brought a feeling like no other. He wished he could say he was an exception, but that would be a lie. The God of Destruction craved the reprieve that you provided him from his poisonous thoughts.

“Come a little closer,” he had you on his lap already, on his throne, inhaling your scent almost desperately, his nose touching your neck, but he pulled you in more. “I’ve had a particularly long day today.”