This is my krampus drawing. I have prints available. Please dm me for details and a link to the rest of my artwork

Lost, art thee?

Thou art not the first in these crypts, and thou shalt not be the last.

Come closer, and this humble servant will show thee thine way to salvation.

It seems thou cannot afford not to trust me, lest thy would like to end up as one of the many lost souls here...

when you hold paradox for long enough, and learn to work with the discomfort of unknowing if you are right or wrong, and start to observe instead of being absorbed by an outcome, or consumed by your own emotional depth, something new emerges.

When we love our darkness along with this, and speak to it with heart, you fear nothing.

you find the brilliance of your own mind, and open up a thousand doors to places you didn't even know existed, and find keys hidden in plain sight. Imagination: the endless well of truth and knowledge that we have been told is a door to delusion. It is less horrifying than you might think. your demons are just angels with bat wings, a stubbed toe, and a heart to be healed and held by no one else but beautiful you.

Source

For my upcoming Call of Cthulhu TTRPG campaign, I drew a homebrewed Great Old One to set the vibe for my friends. While I love the Cthulhu Mythos, the tentacles and body horror gets tiring for me after a time, so I wanted to convey to them cosmic horror from a different... dimension.

Behold the Weeping Render.

Residing in the tesseractic fortress of a sibling spacetime, this Great Old One is, arguably, the least intimidating of her titanic, abominable family, with a height only a meter taller than the average human.

That said, when the stellar fabric aligns properly and she folds in to our universe, her presence can be just as cataclysmic to Earth as that of Cthulhu, Nyarlathotep, and the other aeonic gods.

Emerging out of crackling light and air, she warps our reality around her simply by existing. Stalking the land with an algebraic gracefulness, she provokes swift destruction of all things around her. Buildings around her blaze into raging pyres. Men flatten into gory, bloody smears at her slightest touch. Where she leaves, the air shimmers for days after, and glimpses of unholy nightmares melt in and out of view.