#Luz scribbles

[bimbopawz]

promised a good while ago i’d draw what i look like in headspace so here’s that finally :’3c!!

[gathoscorner]

If they become siblings for real i will cry

[spectralbugs]

Could you draw Hunter and Luz from TOH? :D

in the human raelm 3 am in the moringn past midnight late night ms pain MSSSS not mr ms paint lessons. you know how it is #3am

[rod00dles]

Back on my AU shit.

[spacetravels]

finale night doodles!! goes to sleep forever

[atlasrainerot]

I don’t usually Owl House post on here, but I spent way too long on these redesigns/reimaginings, so here you go, please take them~

(*but also please keep in mind that these are just my interpretations/headcanons, so pls don’t get mad at me if you personally don’t like them, thx :’)

[lemongooose]

redraw of that one luz i made back in april :3

og under cut

[iann-arts]

ACTUALLY VIBRATING OVER GETTING IN NOTABLE MENTIONS

AaAAJANUDNCJNJSNJD

[socks-wizard-money-gang]

Sorry everyone I bamboozled you all into giving me ur favs so that I could turn them into slug cats

And for the one person who asked for actual slugcats:

[fandom-fakemon]

Finally.

Fakemon apart of a new set, based on luz noceda from the owl house. And a mega based on titan luz

[bimbopawz]

fan art i drew of bowser dying in a glue trap

[intricate-ritualz]

[spectralbugs]

what ive been thinking abt recently

[rod00dles]

I did a thing. Dunno if I’ll continue it.

[zladdsmith]

Day 13 - Rise. Owl House has actually been my number one requested fandom to draw, so rising on the magical staff seemed the perfect fit!

[fallsirens]

Thinking about two characters that are wildly different and just had to go wow…that would be a character study.

So here’s an unedited snippet of my 3am thoughts of George Luz and Ron Speirs picking up pieces of each other all across Europe.

——

Untitled Speirs/Luz (607 words)

George Luz couldn’t get a read on Ron Speirs and it was driving him up the wall.

See, if George was one thing it was that he was very good at people, and it wasn’t often that he couldn’t piece a person together from the split second he met them. A look in their eyes, the way they set their shoulders, which of his jokes they laughed at. And with all the whispers about the man and split seconds he saw him lurking around he should have closed the book on one Lieutenant Ronald C. Speirs. But he hadn’t. Because George was sure that he didn’t have a single clue on the man.

Everyone had heard about the cigarettes, how he ran Dog Company. Hell, Blithe was near shaking in his boots dug into his foxhole and nobody could get him to cough up what had him so spooked other than Martin's half asleep and unhelpful “Speirs.” It was everybody's best guess.

All signs pointing towards the man being a lunatic. And George can admit that he had been leaning that way too, but the more he thought about it the more he noticed it was all so one-note.

No one who acted like that was one-note. Especially lunatics.

So George did what he did best. He joked, he watched, he listened, and tried to pick out pieces from all the static.

_____

Leaving the cluster of crowded foxholes was a relief, that many people finally bedding down packed in together after a day like today felt like a powder keg next to an unlit stick of TNT next to a lighter.

Easier to breathe now George shook out a pack from his jacket, bringing a stick up to light.

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

George should have been spooked by not hearing him walk up, German occupied France and all, but the air didn’t feel like there was anything to be tense about. Just curious.

“Well I just thought you’d like some company, Sir,” swinging his eyes to glance back at his left where the Lieutenant had slinked out of the deeper treeline to stand a respectable distance from him, “You shouldn't be out here by yourself.”. The warm night time darkness didn’t do anything to make Speirs look more approachable. If anything it made the guy look even more like the Grim Reaper the rumors made him out to be. Helmet still low over his eyes, black camouflage barely washed off and still smudged all over, not even a twitch of his face. No stray piece to pick up and look over, one-note.

Inhaling and putting on a smile of his own George went poking.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually smile.” exhaling it out like his own form of smoke.

Speirs didn’t say anything, still standing looking out over the clearing they stood on the edge of. Not that George really thought he’d get anywhere with something that simple with this guy. It had been a long day, sue him if he wasn’t on his A game. So there they stood, Speirs silent as the grave and George losing track of time between inhales and exhales and chattering about nothing and everything to fill the gaps before petering out into silence himself.

“You’re not as bad as everyone says you are, Sir.” Stubing the half smoked stick out on the tree he’d been leaning on before shoving the leftover bit back into the pack, almost putting it away before pausing for a moment and holding it back out, “Smoke?”

Speirs just stays silent looking at him and George has to laugh.