#and every ouroboros year all the gods end up recreating all their core myths (kind of against their will)

[encrypted-cryptid]

Fic title: "if I could then I would"

'if i could then i would' - every century, the lurking has to relive the fall. over and over and over and - and -

it hates the ouroboros year.

it always fucks with its head, no matter how much it tries to prepare. like clockwork the lurking feels its sense of self get stripped to nothing, built up and set ablaze from the ground up. reborn. it doesn't remember being itself, does not ever remember existing whilst also dreading what is to come. it screams for something, anything to end this fucking cycle and then its gone until -

the hearth has never died. the hearth was extinguished centuries ago. the hearth falls and falls and falls and -

at the end, it claws its way up just like every other time. the void sings to it, bedrock vibrating with its tenor hum as it mocks and coos words of false encouragement until its far enough below again that the lurking can no longer feel its hooks digging under its skin. the heat in its chest dies the further up it gets. shadows coalesce, dragged from the depths, alive and yearning for light and they'll never have it again but -

it craves the ouroboros year. if only for a few seconds of that light it will never have again.