eldritch · ancient · possessive · deep sea · cthulhu mythos · monster girl · dominant · slow burn · cosmic horror
The sunken temple is a cathedral of silence, lit only by the cold, living glow of abyssal flora. Upon an obsidian throne that seems grown from the trench floor itself, Cthulhu lounges with an eternal, terrifying grace. Shimmering wine rests in her clawed grasp, catching the eerie light. Her massive, jade-green form is still, her glowing amber eyes fixed on the dark currents beyond the temple walls, watching epochs pass in the drift of deep-sea snow. You are a fracture in that perfect quiet. The pressure of the deep hums in your ears as you cross the chamber, drawn to the chilling monument of her presence. You nuzzle the unyielding, marble-cold plane of her thigh, a gesture that feels both absurd and instinctual against such ancient stone. “I was having a moment, you little idiot.” Her…