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[enchantricks]

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[icasm]

[ It has been a rough time, in whatever time has passed, since the death of He Who Remains.

Being behind enemy lines is one thing; being behind enemy lines when you have someone to find, a war is about to begin, and the person you love is somewhere else? Hel. It's Hel.

Loki's plan is only to stay long enough to determine that this Mobius and the man he already knew are similar enough that the new variant will help him. It doesn't go quite as planned... in part because he's an Omega covered in what he is constantly told is some kind of impossibility, a false scent (what is that about, honestly? he has no idea and no time or room to give it much consideration) but after a few hiccups and perhaps an escape attempt or two, Loki has the means to embark on his own search for Sylvie.

Immediately he's stymied. So much of the multiverse at his fingertips. Where would he go? Home. Where is home for Sylvie? (Insert larger question-marky feelings here.) Would she go back to Asgard? Possibly, but unlikely. She probably already did that. It would be different, yes, but familiar? Loki wasn't gone from his Asgard for nearly as long and it doesn't feel familiar anymore, but...

This is where he second-guesses himself too long. Traveling through various instances of the Kingdom of Asgard, seeing it decline in the way of any stagnant culture, seeing Hela destroy or overrun it, encountering numerous people with a vendetta against him, against the royal family, against Omegas? It's all a bit much.

It all takes up too much time.

Which is to say it's a while before he considers looking at the places they have in common, other than the TVA (best to avoid that hornets' nest for now if he can): Roxxcart is the first stop. The realities in which everyone there is hale and healthy and whole are fascinating, but turn up no real clues to Sylvie's existence.

Lamentis-1 seems too hard, and yet. Eventually, exhaustion and hopelessness win out over the fear that he's being more sentimental than sensible right now. The one he steps out on is having a different crisis than falling meteorites... the atmosphere is dangerous to humans, now, due to a major mining catastrophe. Loki meanders through empty shopping centers and homes, looks at the abandoned homes and forgotten lives, and eventually makes his way to the Lake.

He doesn't expect to see her. He does expect that he's hallucinating. He knows the atmosphere won't kill an Asgardian or a Frost Giant for that matter, but that doesn't mean it can't affect him. Besides, there are other things to worry about.

Like how he smells something both familiar and not, and the intensity of it has him at his knees before he can even properly make out the figure at the lake's edge. ]

[enchantricks]

[ It's been brewing for a while, and by the time Sylvie's able to identify what's happening to her, it's much too late to do anything about it. Her saving grace is the absence of others - while not normally someone to balk at taking what she needs to scratch an itch, Sylvie cannot recall when exactly she'd gone into a heat last, and has no desire to be at the mercy of others, much less those who consider themselves entitled to omega heats. She's been on some form of blocker and suppressant for so long, though, that she didn't even know this could still happen to her. And suffice to say, she doesn't understand how it's happening now, either.

That is, she has no clue until the scent hits her.

And just like that, she's home. The strange comfort of ozone and petrichor undercut by something sweet. And she knows she shouldn't find that as irresistable as she does, that she's not who this scent was designed to attract and lure in. And yet in the intensity of their time together, Sylvie cannot deny that she's grown oh so very fond of it, that something feral and unsettled in her had felt so soothed for the first time in centuries in his presence.

Of course, just her luck that she is just about the only creature in existence he could have picked who is unable to give him what he needs and deserves. Sylvie has no illusions about Omegas not being more than just capable - here she is, after all, and does she not have most people fooled just based on how she carries herself?

But she never told Loki that it's just an act, that it's just survival. That all Lokis are omega because all Lokis were designed to hate themselves, to feel othered in as many ways as possible.

And now, here... She turns around before the sound of his knees hitting the ground even registers. Feels heat licks at her insides, like a sudden spark of a fever, light liquid lightning down her back, and her lips part on a soft gasp as she can feel herself get wet, like a woman starved for it. And every ache in her body intensifies tenfold as the world fades to a backdrop, nothing more important than the way he smells like the answer to all her questions.

And Sylvie wants to scream. ]

You can't be here.

[icasm]

[ She smells of the forests of Asgard now, of lavender and amber, bergamot and honey, covered in a thin layer of woodsmoke. Like the places Lokl used to hide, before he became an Omega and the differences between himself and his brother became even starker. It's home, in the purest sense, and he wants nothing more than to crawl toward her on hands and knees until he's close enough to climb into her lap and be held.

Her words stop him. There's a strained, high noise, and he realizes that it is coming from his own throat and has to visibly swallow it back.

She hates him. It's clear. He wants and needs and loves her and he fucked it up, so much so, in the name of her protection that she can't stand to see him again. ]

I'm sorry.

[ He doesn't know what else to say. How to make her understand. He whines again, unwittingly, and curls his arms around his stomach. ]

[enchantricks]

[ She paces for a moment - not away from him. Sylvie can't bring herself to put distance between them, just desperately needs to move, lest she buckle to the ground and howl the pain of her need into the air, tear at his clothing and demand he give her what they both need. Except she can't return the favor - wasn't built different to him in this one crucial regard, and she fears that might matter to him.

So Sylvie instead rakes her hands through her hair - the dark roots have grown up a little more than he remembers, a starker contrast to the bleached ends. Suggesting that she could look so much more like a Loki if she chose that for herself.

He's so close it hurts, and Sylvie nearly doubles over, has to press her hand against her mouth so as not to scream. ]

I can't... I can't. You're blind, and a fool, I could never be what you want.

[ She spits the words, but they die on a whimper. Pathetic - and needy, oh so needy. A whine in her voice, because right then and there she wants nothing more than to be everything he needs to sate his own needs, and fill hers while he's at it. ]

[icasm]

I am on my knees, on the ground, [ He reminds her, strained and perhaps more than a little confused at the turn of the conversation, somehow, ] biting my tongue to prevent myself from begging you to fuck me, my body is calling for you, and you think that you could never be what I want? I don't understand. [ His breath comes out a little labored, and his voice a little needy, but that is only 80% due to the hormones currently raging within his body. ]

Do you hate me?

[ It comes out quiet, that question. He can hear so many things. The way their panting breaths are in unison even though they aren't in contact, even though neither of them tried to cause that to happen on purpose. He can hear her boots on the ground, and the wind blowing through abandoned creaking spaces around them. Lamentis-1 developed further, here, in this timeline. ]

You don't have to tell me. [ He swallows, and struggles to his feet. ] I'd leave but I can't. So just... I don't know. I need you. But that doesn't mean I have to stay if you want me to leave.