#hyper lover

[themeltingmoons]

Octavia 💖

One of my goals with this piece was to work a little faster than I normally do. It was nice focusing on the overall colors and mood instead of obsessing over every tiny detail.

[themeltingmoons]

Sugar, spice, and tits that’ll outlast the grave. You’re welcome.- Xander

[themeltingmoons]

I’ve been refining these two a bit more lately and focusing on how their designs feel visually.

Xander’s jacket ended up being inspired by a baseball varsity jacket, he played when he was younger, and that ties into the way he uses his shotgun like a bat. Plus I just really love that black and white stripe pattern.

Zane was a little tougher to design clothing-wise. I wanted his look to feel aristocratic but still modern and grounded. I’m finally starting to like where they’ve landed.

[themeltingmoons]

a little Mother’s Day piece for Sophia Calavera 🌿 wanted to draw Xander’s mama with baby Xander

[themeltingmoons]

Back from Japan! And just in time for 4th of July! It didn’t go exactly as planned, but I still feel like it was a successful trip. It’s a beautiful country, and I learned a lot—about the world, about myself.

Finished this one on the plane ride over. I might share a few sketchbook pages from the trip soon.

Xander’s an artist too. He usually works in acrylics, pastels, graphite—sometimes even colored pencils. He says it’s just practice.But it’s always the same face. And it’s always after midnight.

[themeltingmoons]

“Had to join in on Loish’s DTYIS! But I couldn’t help myself—I’ve been obsessed with drawing Xander lately, so I mashed the two together.

[themeltingmoons]

Shotgun spirit

A spirit forged from heat, hunger, and something far older than instinct. Bound not to the weapon, but awakened through it.

Didn’t speak. Just watched. And when the time was right, answered the one who dared to grip the fire.

(Shotgun blacked out for now — still deciding on the final design. This was all about capturing the presence.)

[themeltingmoons]

Sword Spirit

She is the spirit of the ancestral blade. To wield her is not to fight — but to surrender.

Few are chosen. One was. He didn’t raise the blade to prove himself. He laid himself bare… and she answered.

Also — I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been recovering from an injury that made it physically hard to focus on creating art. Finally feeling a bit better, and I’m really happy to share again.