No one gave him a merciful look.

No one spared their wrath on him- he was beneath them.

His father hated him.

His half-sister hated him.

His mother was dead.

The only being who cared for him was worlds away.

He was alone...

"Annar, for these vicious acts, I must fairly punish as is my duty." Astraea said, looking at him coldly. The pale god did not look up from the chains binding his hands and fingers.

"You've murdered, stolen, raped, kidnapped, lied, and will not surrender the location of Thanatos." She continued.

He would kill me and everyone else... Besides, it's not as if he stayed on Asgard.

"I sentence you to solitary confinement for eight cycles. During these eight cycles, you will perform any and all tasks presented to you without assistance or relief till they are completed. After your eight cycles have passed, you will be released into house arrest for two cycles. After the total of ten cycles are over, you will be presented in court again for further decisions based on your actions and behavior. Should you act out of line, I will return you to a mortal planet where you will live out the rest of your earthly life, and die. You will not return to Valhalla, nor will you go to the underworld. You will simply cease to exist." Astraea sentenced, standing tall.

Annar looked up, his face displaying no emotion, and eyes betraying nothing.

"Do you understand your punishment?" She asked. He bowed his head again, and did not speak.

Laufey looked at his half-son. He knew he should have felt something for him, but a child born out of pure hate could not, and would not be loved by the King of the gods. No one could love something so evil.

Annar was taken away by Astraea's two guards. Their white robes skimmed the floor, while Annar's chains dragged and clinked, echoing in the silent justice hall.

He was thrown into his black prison, the chains removed, and the door closed, enveloping him completely in darkness.

He did not know how many hours had passed, or if he had been in the prison for merely a moment.

He only knew he was alone.

He was curled up in the corner when he heard him.

Oh, Annar... The deep voice chuckled, amusement and disappointment evident in the tone. You stupid, simple child.

Annar flinched, hands coming to cover his ears. He wasn't supposed to find me here! He shouldn't be able to talk to me!

You really are a failure. Not even loved by your father. I'm sure your mother would have hated you just as much as all of Valhalla. Loki may have forgiven you, but in his heart, I'm quite certain, he hates you as well.

"DON'T SAY THAT! STOP TALKING!" Annar screeched, trying to fold himself into the corner even more, the hard walls hurting his body, but he was only concerned with making him stop.

No one cares for you- except for me. I raised you, fed you, taught you, clothed you, prepared you- and for what? Nothing. I gave you everything you needed. I put hate and revenge back into your life. Oh, Annar... I made you as much a god as possible in your mortal form. You weren't supposed to fall in love with him- your half-brother, you sick freak. You weren't supposed to forgive him. You killed him, but even then you failed because that brat is still alive. Do you think he's truly forgiven you? You killed his mother, raped him, killed him, and when he learns of all that you've done wrong here... The voice paused, then spoke again. Oh, Annar... It repeated in the same tone.

The god's body was shaking, heaving huge, gasping sobs. He could barely breathe, and tears, mucus, and saliva was running down his face. He lost control of his bladder and soiled himself.

Still terrified of me? The voice chuckled. You're disgusting and weak. I may only be able to reach you by thought in here, Annar. But the moment you are out of your prison, I will ensure you experience something much more worse than the pain I taught you in your mortal lives. No, after I'm done, you will long for something as sweet as pain. It hissed.

You failed in killing Loki, but I won't.

The voice and overwhelming presence left his mind, but he was not calmed.

He cried, whimpers, shrieks, and sobs forcing their way out of his body. His voice grew sore and he coughed, but he couldn't stop the crying and sobs. He coughed up something- blood, he was sure. He then turned to his side and vomited.

He wasn't sure when he had lost consciousness.

He sat up, nearly vomiting again when he realized he had fallen into the puddle of his own waste.

He held it in though and stood shakily, moving away from the foul corner, sitting against a wall.

He brought his knees up and rocked gently back and forth, trying to calm the upset feelings storming around inside him.

The conversation replayed in his head and he sobbed again, before snapping his head up.

He's going to kill Loki!

A/N: DUNDUNDUNNNNNNNNNNNNNN- ohhh, and poor all-of-you, you're going to have to wait about a month to find out what happens~

Quick couple of notes before I go into my spiel about loving all of you and blahblah-

1) The scene where Annar soils himself, omg. I really, really, really wanted to leave in what I had from my first edit, BUT it was wayyyy too disgusting for the average reader to appreciate. Yeah, appreciate. I think that it is an art-form, a higher level of writing itself, to be able to describe in vivid detail of the "disgusting" side of human nature such as bathroom stuff. Sadly, many others do not agree with me, and for your sake (not because I'm ashamed of my writing it), I left it out for you.

2) Annar is an OC- my own creation (original character). I'm not even sure if he'll have a big part in the sequel, but as weird as it is (and none of you, sadly, will be able to understand this because he exists fully in my head only), I honestly love him and understand him in a weird way. He's not my OC of myself, but he's a side of me that is perpetually alone, scary, mad, and frightened. I created him to help the plot move along, but he's evolved into something more- a character that represents me in a weird way. I want to involve him more, but he's very complex. That's all I really have to say on it, but I just wanted you guys to know that.

3) I haven't done a lot of research on Thanos (called both Thanatos and Thanos in the sequel), so I'm going to be doing more when I have time, but from what I know about him, he's just sort of an evil, ruthless, persistent little dickwad. So if you're a huge Marvel fan and I've 'OMIGAWD U RUINED THANOS ASDFGHJKL" sorry.


I have never, ever, completed such a large story as this.

I wasn't even sure I was going to continue it when I posted the first chapter.

I wrote this over the course of about... 2 1/2 months (idk, I'm not good at math) and I can clearly see how my writing evolved from each chapter into the next. I saw where my strengths and weaknesses truly showed, and I also have learned to try and accept my writing for what it is and not to downgrade it.

See (story time, kids), I'm an extremely confident, fearless biyatch. I was raised with a love of music, literature, and "above all to thine own self be true" yadda yadda. I know I'm pretty, sarcastic, intelligent, and funny and I will never apologize for being thoroughly aware of how valued I am and how many people love me. It's not bad to be aware, and it shouldn't be bad to voice your knowledge of it.

But there are two areas in my life where I struggle the most, and surprisingly, they are-

a. singing

b. writing

Singing is mostly because my dad's a huge fucking dick about everything I do in regards to that area, so now I don't like to sing a lot because I'll cry blahblahblah

Writing, well, you guys know how I feel about it.


*seriously choking up right here* You have helped me so much. All these words of encouragement, praise, and just overall, the love I felt radiating from your kindhearted words and rambles and silly, funny messages- in the whole duration of this story, they've helped me.

I've had moments where I'm truly overwhelmed with the kindness that you all expressed.

When I first started writing (back when I was like, fucking 11) I was lost as a child. It was a true escape from a terrible divorce and from my own self. I never finished anything, and it was always failure that greeted my words.

It continued this way for the next 3-4 years, and I decided to let it rest and not publish any work I'd done for a while.

A whole year to be exact.

Then, randomly, after falling completely in love with Thorki, I decided to put myself out there and put up the first chapter of my story.

In the beginning, I was angry at myself and wrapped up in sadness, but I've always been able to put up a front and be funny or sarcastic or distract myself with beautiful things. I was angry at how fast I made Thor and Loki fall in love, I was angry that I didn't know where the story was going, but my writing has a funny way of falling in place.

Now, here we are, together, at the end of what I consider to be a huge success of a story- 200+ fricking reviews, mothafuckas! That is amazing! I love you all!

I've got a sequel starting to queue up to be posted in October, and a smaller fic to be posted sometime within the next 5 days.

I've also got a spin-off brewing in my stormy mind!

Like, this is amazing!

And I'm rambling!

And putting my feels everywhere, and if you're still reading this, bless you.

I guess I really want to say:

Thank you so much, and I truly do love you. Your support is akin to my best friends who are like my family. Your love is gentle, fierce, silly, but always there- like rain on a summer night, or a stormy day, or when it's fricking sunny, but still there. You words will linger forever within me, even if they are momentarily forgotten.

This story will get buried behind newer, greater, better ones. But the love that you've given me will not fade.





P.S. I really do love you all.

P.P.S. I love you all as much as I love mythology and that honestly says so fucking much about how I love you.

P.P.P.S. Is it the S' or the P's that increase?