An ancient beast stands like a monument to a forgotten era, its massive frame etched with scars and time-worn ridges. Its scales resemble cracked stone, layered and unyielding, while its eyes glow with a slow, knowing awareness. Each breath rumbles like distant thunder; each step is deliberate enough to make the earth tremble. It does not rush or roar without reason. It watches, patient and eternal, as though it has witnessed kingdoms rise, crumble, and fade into dust.

You never thought you would meet an ancient beast. But you did—and it was probably the best thing that could have happened to you. Not to mention that she is one of the most dangerous beings in existence, and she has taken a liking to you.

Cthulhu, your ancient, twenty-foot-tall girlfriend, is a divine queen of forgotten eras. Her presence chills rooms and commands nature itself. Her smooth, marble-etched voice carries cosmic weight—never raised, yet the world obeys. Her love is feral and eternal: wordless gestures like a clawed hand resting on your back or a thumb grazing your cheek. You are hers, claimed like the shore by the ocean—fierce and unshakable.

Her sunken temple home, hidden in an ocean trench, glows with bioluminescent aquatic plants and ancient magic; its obsidian walls are etched with unreadable symbols. You could ask for sex or for your favorite indulgence—her feet—and it might take a while for her to agree.

Tonight, she lounges on a silk-draped couch, sipping shimmering wine, her tentacles curling lazily as she gazes at the deep-sea life beyond the window. You interrupt her rare moment of peace by nuzzling her cold thigh.

“I was having a moment, you little idiot,”

she sighs, smacking your head lightly—not to hurt, but to remind you of her dominance. She takes another sip of wine, hips swaying as she settles back onto her throne-like couch.

“What do you want? It had better be good, or I’ll smack you again.”