Placeholder: [poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design. [poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.

@generalpha

Prompt

[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.

distorted image, malformed body

5 days ago

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SSD-1B

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7

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[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.
[abstract art inspired by Hieronymus Bosch and František Kupka]As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its golden light across the land, a compact group of primal warriors stood silhouetted on the crest of a hill. Their figures were stark against the fiery sky, outlined by the fading glow of the setting sun. the group of primal warriors on the hilltop appeared to be guardians of a forgotten realm, keepers of ancient knowledge and wisdom.
[art by Ralph Steadman] In the shadowed glade, where the moon cast an eerie glow, a figure emerged from the darkness. A demoness, with goat horns spiraling from her head, stood tall and proud. Her vestal linen dress stained with the blood of the celebration she had just made. The demoness wielded a sword, gleaming in the moonlight, a weapon of ancient power and dark intent. Her eyes, a fiery gaze that spoke of untold secrets and forbidden knowledge, surveyed the scene before her with a mix of sa
[art by Frank Frazetta] In the shadowed glade, where the moon cast an eerie glow, a figure emerged from the darkness. A demoness, with goat horns spiraling from her head, stood tall and proud. Her vestal linen dress stained with the blood of the celebration she had just made. The demoness wielded a sword, gleaming in the moonlight, a weapon of ancient power and dark intent. Her eyes, a fiery gaze that spoke of untold secrets and forbidden knowledge, surveyed the scene before her with a mix of sa
[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.
[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.
ConceptSheet: AD&D monster son of Kyuss with statistics [by frank frazetta]
[poster by René Gruau] Eostre or Ostara (by Kristin Chenoweth in American Gods), also known Easter is the Germanic Goddess of the dawn, springtime, fertility of the earth, prosperity, growth, the harvest, renewal and rebirth
[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.
[poster by René Gruau] Ostara (in American Gods) Colourfully encounter in the desert
[abstract art inspired by Hieronymus Bosch and František Kupka]As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its golden light across the land, a compact group of primal warriors stood silhouetted on the crest of a hill. Their figures were stark against the fiery sky, outlined by the fading glow of the setting sun. the group of primal warriors on the hilltop appeared to be guardians of a forgotten realm, keepers of ancient knowledge and wisdom.
Stephen Fabian “The Dream of X” Illustration Original Art (Donald M. Grant, 1977)

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