Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandoms:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2020-11-28
Updated:
2024-03-07
Words:
279,626
Chapters:
30/?
Comments:
1,004
Kudos:
355
Bookmarks:
98
Hits:
20,553

Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance

Summary:

We all know the story. The Witches held a nigh unbreakable sway over the world, abusing their magical powers with reckless abandon until the Grim Reaper led a war upon them with humanity, breaking their hold and defeating their evil... but, perhaps, the tale is not so clear cut as the history books say. This is the story of a Death Scythe's daughters, and the people they love.

Notes:

So. First time I've ever actually posted here.

I'm fairly new to this site; the Jarl of the North, normally a Fanfiction.net writer. I've been considering getting into Archive of Our Own as a writer and since this is a new story of mine (I've been writing for quite a long time now), I figured this would be a good chance to check it out.

I'm considering bringing other stories of mine here as well, so I'm sort of testing the waters.

Before I forget; this story was inspired both by my craving for more Owl House, but also by Evilsnotbag both on this site and on deviantart, and by Issabolical on Deviantart.

Specifically, I was inspired by Evilsnotbag's Lunar Eclipse Owl House AU (found here: https://www.archiveofourown.org/series/1765585), and by Issabolical's piece of crossover fanart for Owl House and Soul Eater (found here: https://www.deviantart.com/issabolical/art/SOUL-EATER-X-The-Owl-House-856387469).

Please go and check them out. Seriously, their artwork and writing is phenomenal.

With all that out of the way, let's deal with the disclaimer.

I do not own Owl House or Soul Eater.

But by God, I love them both.

Chapter 1: Death Scythe's Daughters

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Azura leapt back and landed in a deep crouch, eyes narrowed, sky blue hair and white robes swept back as she stared up at the great serpent before her; she had heard stories of his might, but they paled to capture the true, colossal strength of the Great Serpent, Gildersnake.

As massive as any Dragon, Gildersnake’s coils stretched for miles beneath the entirety of the Fireplume Mountains, his fangs longer than any spear, crimson eyes flashing against his soot-coated scales, dyed blacker than even the night sky devoid of stars.

FOOLISH CHILD,” the Serpent hissed, a simple shift of his weight enough to cause the rivers of lava far below to shift and rise in a tidal wave, “I COULD SWALLOW YOU WHOLE!

Azura took a deep breath through her nose, rising to her feet with her grip tightening on her staff. She pointed an accusing finger at the gigantic creature, “Do not underestimate me, Gildersnake! For I am the Good Witch Azura, Warrior of Peace!...”

She waited but a moment longer. Her ultimate technique was finally ready.

“… NOW EAT THIS, SUCKA!!!” she raised her Celestial Staff, slinging it up and over her shoulder as she dropped to one knee, the crystal aimed directly at the Great Serpent as it abruptly tripled in size, the weapon glowing with incredible destructive power gathered over the course of centuries in its resting place – and every last second of it, every last ounce, aimed directly at the soot-blackened snake,

It struck with such tremendous force that Gildersnake’s scales gave way in an instant; it bored straight through flesh and bone, and into the vulnerable organ beneath.

The destruction, from there, went unseen, but from how the Great Serpent thrashed and writhed in its immense death throes, causing the mountains themselves to shake, Azura knew that it was more than enough.

NO! MY ONE WEAKNESS!” Gildersnake cried, “ DYING!!!

He fell into the lava below, quickly sinking beneath the surface of the glowing orange ocean.

Azura allowed herself a small smile; she hadn’t been certain when she entered the Fireplume Mountains to confront the Great Serpent, but ultimately, she had prevailed.

Now, peace would finally return to the land…

“… and that’s the end!” Luz Noceda quipped cheerfully, lowering her Azura doll and the still very much alive snake, which she had brought as props for her assignment.

Her Mother, and Principal Hal, stared at her in a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

“… the end of what?” Mom asked, tone one of genuine confusion and concern.

“My book report!”

Even though the snake had latched its fangs into her Good Witch Azura doll, Luz kept her brown eyes strictly on the adults in front of her; in her experience, adults didn’t like it when she paid attention to anything other than them during a “serious conversation.”

Nonetheless, she beamed; despite the fact that she had been deprived of ninety percent of her props, including her paper mache castle, mountains and caverns, complete with tomato sauce for the lava, Luz fully believed it when she said “I think I knocked it out of the park!”

Principal Hal let out a tired sigh, pointing to the door, “Your book report is the reason why you’re here.”

The ‘again’ went unsaid, and a spike of disappointed frustration shot through Luz’s stomach.

It had all been so clear in her head; all she had to do was verbally present her book report in front of her class. That was easy, no big deal! It wasn’t as if Luz had stage fright or anything like that; she’d auditioned to be Juliet in the school play!... even if she hadn’t gotten the part… the sausage link intestines had seemed funny at the time… seriously, Romeo and Juliet was a farcical comedy about dumb teenagers, not a tragic love story about star crossed lovers… why was Mrs. Nameno so upset?...

Luz had gotten everything she needed. She’d memorized her script. She’d gathered her props. Anything she didn’t have a substitute for, she made from scratch. She even made sure to reread the parts of the Good Witch Azura that she didn’t like, just to make sure she wouldn’t skip them.

The only things that were missing were her backup snakes.

She’d looked for them everywhere; in her bag, in her desk, even asking for the chance to slip out to her locker just to make absolutely sure she hadn’t left them in there, even though she knew she hadn’t.

Eventually, though, her turn came up, and she had to step up to the front of the class without the safety of having a stunt snake for the action scenes, or a backup snake in case her primary snake got ill or stage fright.

But that was okay. They couldn't have gone far. She’d just find them after class. What was the worst that could happen?

Then Mr. Maclain, her English teacher, took one look at the snake in her hand, and the fireworks in her backpack, and sent her straight to the Principal’s office without even letting her present.

She had been sat down outside the office, listening to Principal Hal’s muffled voice through the door on the phone, knowing that Mami would be called in from work at the hospital.

Again.

That she would be lectured.

Again.

That she would be told that she needed to reign herself in.

Again.

Luz looked out the window built into the door; almost immediately, two kids ran past, each screaming as the snakes that had latched onto their heads held on with every ounce of might they could muster with their little jaws.

“Oh,” she kept her tone light, trying to play it off as she looked back at the Principal, “That’s where the backup snakes were...”

“And what were you going to do with this?” her mother lifted the rather hefty bundle of fireworks, larger than a particularly well-fed corgi.

“That was for the act three closer…” Luz said, feeling herself deflate as her eyes fell to the floor.

Mija,” Mami began, setting the fireworks down, “I love your creativity, but it’s gotten out of hand. Do you remember why you were in the principal’s office the last three times?”

How could Luz forget? It seemed like everything she did got her in trouble, in some way or another; she’d been ridiculed for the aforementioned “Sausage Guts” incident by Mrs. Nameno for “mocking the Bard’s greatest tragedy of star crossed love” (even though it was clearly a comedy about stupid teens doing stupid things).

Luz’s anatomically correct griffon had seen no end of grief, earning her lectures for stitching together taxidermied animals and filling them with spiders to replicate a creature that “didn’t exist naturally” (despite Dad providing her with plenty of evidence to the contrary).

And then there was the cheerleading team tryouts, where Luz hadn’t even done anything – all she’d done was turn her eyelids inside out for a few seconds and everyone started screaming like she’d committed murder. Actually, ALL those incidents had everyone screaming like she’d committed murder.

And, moreover, caused everyone in school to keep their distance from her.

“We all love that you love to express yourself,” Mom began, “but if you can’t learn to separate fantasy from reality, you may need to spend the summer here.”

She held up a pamphlet, and Luz felt a heavy stone of dread fall into her stomach as she read the cover.

Camp Reality Check.

Think INSIDE the box!

Luz had to keep herself from swallowing; she forced a bright smile, “Don’t worry, Mom! I won’t let you down!” she leapt out of the chair to her feet, pumping her fist, “From now on, NO MORE WEIRDNESS!”

She only realized her grip on the snake was too loose when it leapt from her fingers, jaws opened wide, towards Principal Hal. He screamed as the snake latched onto his nose, causing him to fall backwards out of his chair to the floor.

Luz’s eyes went wide with horror as she looked to her mother, “… that doesn’t count, right?”

It took only one glance at her mother’s disappointed expression to know the answer to that question.

… it was days like this where Luz was truly jealous of Maka.


“Forty two, forty two, five six four, whenever you want to knock on Death’s door,” Maka Albarn’s voice was despondent as she stared into her reflection in the wall mirror of her shared apartment.

It had been nearly an hour since they’d gotten back. It was well after midnight; Maka’s grey hair had been let down, and she stood in her nightgown, green eyes narrow and her forehead pressing into the glass of the mirror.

Soul stood off to the side, having done away with his jacket and headband, hands stuffed in his pockets and red eyes half lidded; despite his slouched posture, Maka could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves.

Not that she could blame him. She was feeling the exact same way.

They had been so close. They had ninety-nine Kishin Egg Souls. They were one step away from turning Soul into a Death Scythe. They had defeated the Witch Blair, and were on the threshold of success. They would have been the youngest Meister and Weapon pair to ever create a Death Scythe, younger even than Maka’s own mother.

And it was all for nothing.

Because it turned out Blair wasn’t even a Witch.

She was a cat. A cat with magical powers, mind you, but a cat nonetheless.

Which meant that all the effort they’d made over the past year was completely wasted.

“… you sure you wanna do this tonight?” Soul asked, tone oddly calm despite his quiet anger, “You can put it off until tomorrow. Do this with a cool head.”

Maka let out a quiet snicker, “You and I both know I don’t really do “cool” like you do, Soul.”

“You take my point,” he smiled, showing his sharp teeth, “Fact is, neither of us are in a very good headspace right now. We report to Lord Death now, we’re probably gonna get lectured for failing. Are you really okay to deal with that right now, after the night you’ve had?”

She hummed, leaning forwards against the side table, “I’ve been wondering that since we started heading back, Soul. And frankly… I’m not sure I’m getting much sleep tonight anyways. I just want this over with.”

“… alright then. Do your thing.”

“... forty two, forty two,” Maka began, writing the numbers into the mirror, “Five six four, whenever you want to knock on Death’s door.”

The mirror rang out, going dark, shimmering like ripples in the water. After a moment, it cleared, and a visage of an inky black silhouette stood, jagged and only humanoid in the vaguest possible sense, stood before them, a bone white mask with three “teeth” and holes to represent eyes and a nose. Behind him, a beautiful blue sky arced overhead, pockmarked with clouds that slowly shifted at random with no discernable pattern… and an endless desert stretched out behind him, marked with countless thin, jagged black crosses, an infinite number of nameless grave-markers, but for whom, neither Meister nor Weapon could guess.

“Hello, Lord Death,” Maka tried to hide the misery in her voice beneath her usual chipper tone, “Scythe Meister Maka Albarn and Demon Weapon Soul Eater, reporting in.”

Hello, hello!” Death’s voice echoed back, high pitched and cheery as ever as he bounced back and forth, “Good to see you both safe and sound, Maka, Soul!

“That’s one way to put it,” Soul sighed, stepping closer to the mirror, until he was standing right beside his partner.

“… unfortunately, sir,” Maka began, “We… we failed to recover an actual Witch’s Soul. Instead… we wound up targeting… a magical cat.”

A moment of silence passed before anyone spoke further.

I know,” Death’s tone was not scolding, or mocking. If anything, his tone was one of… understanding?

Maka bowed, low as she could, arms ramrod straight at her sides, “As the Meister, this is my responsibility. I should have been able to recognize our target wasn’t a Witch. I-”

Now, now,” Death chided, raising a large, boxy hand in an appeasing gesture, “… slow down, Maka. I don’t believe that you or Soul are responsible for this.

Maka blinked, raising her head.

“We're not?” Soul asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Of course not,” Death shook his “head,” letting his hand fall back into the inky blackness of his form, “If anything, the responsibility falls more on my shoulders for giving you permission to attempt the hunt in the first place, without properly verifying that there was an actual Witch in the area.

Maka had fully straightened her back now, eyes wide. There wasn’t going to be a lecture? They weren’t in trouble for this?

They weren’t going to be punished?

Even as I watched you fight, I could tell there was something distinctly off about your target. It isn’t uncommon for Witches to not take young Meisters and Weapons like yourselves seriously, but even taking that into account, she lacked the ruthlessness most Witches have. Against a true Witch, they likely would have killed you outright in the first encounter,” Death explained, “Your target essentially played with you without any true malice. She never intended to kill or even hurt either of you. Moreover, she could have corrected you at any point and told you she was not, in fact, a Witch, and saved everyone a good deal of hassle.

“… but she didn’t,” Maka squeaked, the gears in her head turning.

“… so you’re telling us that she didn’t tell us she wasn’t a Witch, and humoured our attempts to kill her despite being strong enough to blow us away at any point… because she wanted a playdate,” Soul managed, tone low, exasperated, and defeated.

That’s exactly what I am saying, Soul.

The Demon Weapon let out a low groan, bringing a hand to his forehead, “I put two and two together already… but hearing it confirmed like that somehow only makes it all worse.”

Don’t beat yourselves up too badly over this!” Death’s voice became jovial once more, “You both did admirably against an opponent that outclassed you quite considerably! You’ve proven that you are among the most capable pairs in your year. Possibly even among older students, as well! The Academy is proud to have you both!

“… so… if we aren’t in trouble…” Maka began, “Then what happens now? Do we still lose all the Souls we collected?”

Another pause, before Death let out a sigh of his own.

The Witch’s Soul is incredibly important to the process of turning a Weapon into a Death Scythe, Maka,” His tone was lower now, more deliberate, “And unfortunately, magical or not, a cat’s Soul does not supply the same sort of “oomph” that a Weapon needs to make that jump.

“Can’t we just remove it from the batch?” the Weapon asked, “Try again later?”

As it stands, no. The fact that Weapons eat the Kishin Egg Souls they recover means that those Souls all affect each other. That cat Soul you ate has effectively contaminated the whole bunch you’ve collected,” the Reaper bowed, his voice filled with regret, “I am sorry, to the both of you… but the fact of the matter is, the Souls you have collected are no longer capable of creating a Death Scythe.

“So we’ll have to start again from scratch,” Maka moaned, bringing her hands to her face, “I can’t believe I screwed this up so badly…”

“Hey,” Soul reached out, gently gripping Maka’s shoulder, “That wasn’t just on you. We both messed this up, so don’t go blaming yourself.”

As I’ve said,” Death interjected, “a good deal of the responsibility rests on me. At the very least, I could have double-checked my list while I was watching you fight. Were you older students, I might have expected you to be more perceptive regarding the true nature of your opponent, but young as you are, it would have been unfair to expect you to be able to tell the true nature of a Soul at a glance.

“But we’ll still be starting over,” Maka stated, rubbing her eyes.

Well…” the Grim Reaper tilted his head, “I was going to propose some sort of compensation. You both have put in an incredible effort over the past year; it would be a shame for it to all go to waste over a screw-up that wasn’t even yours.

“… so you’re going to offer us Souls collected by others? Is that it?” Soul crossed his arms, eyes narrowing slightly.

Recently, Dark Arm Meister Black Star and Demon Weapon Tsubaki collected the Kishin Egg Souls of an entire mob family out in New York. Al Capone and his cronies, ninety-nine in total,” Death mused, “I offered to let them keep all those Souls, but they refused, on account of them not having assassinated the mob themselves. So we have ninety-nine Kishin Egg Souls with no one to claim them.

A long moment of silence passed between the three.

As the one who gave you permission to attempt to hunt a Witch, and directed you to a faulty target in the first place, I think it only right that I offer these Souls to you,” the Reaper’s tone suggested a smile behind that silly mask, “Even if you refuse, I will make sure your efforts are recognized.

Maka and Soul looked at each other, still silent; though neither said a word, an entire conversation seemed to pass between them as they stared into each others’ eyes, a myriad of subtle expressions shooting across their faces in a matter of seconds.

Confusion. Curiosity.

Pride. Shame.

Finally, Soul let out a breath, breaking his gaze and closing his eyes as he leaned back against the wall.

“… can we have a day or two to think about it, Lord Death?” Maka asked, “I think Soul and I need to talk before we can decide on this. And it’s been a long night; I don’t think either of us really want to talk right now.”

Of course, of course!” Death sing-songed, “I’ll have you get back to me soon. Just keep in mind this is a one time offer! If you refuse, they’re gone for good!

“Yeah, of course. Thank you, Lord Death. Have a good night.”

With that, the mirror went dark.

“… I’m going to bed,” Soul sighed, scratching the back of his head, “I’m exhausted. It’s a lot less cool to stay up this late than I thought it would be…”

“We’ve had a long night,” Maka rocked back on her heels, “We’ll talk about Lord Death’s offer in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Soul turned, and padded into the hallway, “Night, Maka.”

“Goodnight, Soul.”

His bedroom door creaked open, and gently closed behind him. Left alone, Maka turned to look into the mirror once more, her reflection staring back.

“… well, I can officially say I’ve screwed up harder than Luz now…”


“WAIT, MAKAAAAAAA!”

Death let out a tired breath as Spirit Albarn came rushing through the gates of guillotines, screaming at the top of his lungs. The Death Scythe rushed past the Grim Reaper, and slammed his face into the mirror, “MAKA, IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT SHE WASN’T A WITCH! YOU CAN STILL MAKE A DEATH SCYTHE! PAPA’LL FIX IT! PAPA WILL-“

A single, well placed Reaper Chop was enough to leave Spirit nearly silent, weakly croaking as he slid down the surface of the mirror to the floor.

“The call has already ended, Spirit,” Death lectured, blowing on his smoking hand as if it were a revolver, “And I very much doubt that Scythe Meister Maka is in the mood to chat with you.”

“… aaaaaahahahoooooowwwww…” Spirit groaned, slowly pushing himself up off the floor. Unsteadily, he got to his feet, staring into the mirror, “… I just wanted to tell her everything would be alright…”

“I’ve already reassured Maka and her partner that they have an option available,” Death said, “Even if they don’t take the Souls collected by Black Star and Tsubaki, their grades will not fall as a result of this incident. If anything, collecting a new set of Kishin Egg Souls will count as extra credit.”

“I know.”

Spirit’s voice was oddly firm as he turned to look at the Reaper; Death and Death Scythe held each others’ gaze for a long moment, the former inscrutable, the latter unusually serious. If anything, one would say he even looked downright grim.

“… I know,” he repeated, sighing, his gaze falling to the floor as he stuffed his fingers in his pockets. He closed his eyes, his red bangs falling over his face, “I just… I want to be a good father. I have a responsibility to be there for my daughters, regardless of whether they’re sailing forwards with flying colours or if they’re on the down and out. I know you asked me to let you explain it, but…”

“… with all due respect, Spirit, I do think you could be doing a significantly better job on that front,” Death tilted his head, tone nonchalant, “I mean, don’t you think Maka’s attitude towards you should tell you something?”

“… please don’t rub it in, sir,” Spirit whined, clutching his handmade Maka doll to his chest.

“I’m not trying to be cruel. Don’t forget that I’m a father as well,” Death reminded, “I’ve sought your input many times in helping raise my own son, and you’ve been an invaluable resource in regards to helping maintain my connection with him. I’d go so far as to say you’re practically his Godfather.

“But I think it’s time for you to take one of the most helpful pieces of advice you have ever given me to heart yourself.”

“And that is?”

“Recognize that your daughter has set a boundary.”

Spirit felt his fists clench; quickly, he pocketed the Maka doll, trying to ensure he wouldn’t treat it like a stress toy even by accident.

When he did not give an answer, Death continued, “As a direct result of your own recent actions, Maka has decided she wants to maintain a sizeable distance from you. I suspect the only reason she speaks to you at all is because you are a Death Scythe, and thus within the same professional body as the career she is pursuing.

“I understand that this is painful for you, Spirit; I can only imagine how I would feel if Kid were to do the same to me for any reason. But if you honestly want to repair, or at least not cause any further damage to your relationship with your daughter, then I would suggest respecting Maka’s desires. Chasing after her, being overbearing in the way you have, is only going to drive her further away.”

The Death Scythe bit his lip, still staring listlessly at the ground. Slowly, he crossed his arms, “It’s so hard to stay away, though… and it seems like just yesterday we were still reading together in the living room…”

“I have been around for a long time, Spirit. I have seen a good deal over the years, and I can tell you this: Nothing worth cultivating – or fixing – can ever be done in a day,” for the first time, Death extended not a harsh chop, but a gentle hand, lightly clapping his red headed Weapon across the shoulders, “I can’t guarantee that Maka will come around. And even if she does, things are never going to be the same between you. You’ve destroyed your relationship with her. But the chances of you actually being able to repair that relationship will be higher if you don’t continue pushing your luck with her.”

“… yeah,” Spirit’s voice was a whisper, barely audible above his own breath.

“… speaking of daughters, how is Luz?” Death ventured, trying to move on to a more cheerful topic for his Weapon, “Is she still calling you regularly?”

At this, Spirit looked up, a slow, small smile crossing his features as he took out a second handmade doll – this one bearing tanned skin, brown eyes, and dark short hair, “She is, actually. A few weeks back, she actually asked me for help regarding a science project.”

“Oh?”

“She was supposed to build an anatomical model of an animal. But she didn’t want to make one based on an everyday creature; she wanted to make a griffon.”

“A griffon!” Death mused, his tone light, “Those are a rare sight, these days.”

“I know. Getting source material for her was tricky; I really had to go digging through the library to help,” Spirit gently stroked the doll’s dark hair, “I managed to get her everything she needed though.”

“I imagine the spider breath must have been tricky to pull off.”

“Believe it or not? She actually managed to get it to work.”

“Really?” an actual laugh from the Reaper this time, “She sounds like quite a clever girl.”

“She is. She really is,” Spirit sighed, “Unfortunately, her teacher didn’t seem to think so. She got in trouble for the way she did her assignment.”

“… oh. Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“Apparently griffons don’t constitute as ‘real animals’ these days,” the Weapon snorted, “I can understand that the successful spider breath with actual spiders was maybe going a little far, but really? Griffons, not real? They’re endangered, not fictional.

“Well, you do have to remember that most schools aren’t quite as unusual as the DWMA. They probably don’t teach about things like griffons there,” Death nodded sagely, “But even so, I would believe that an anatomically correct griffon would deserve at least an A minus. One with functioning spider breath, an A or A plus.”

Right?

Abruptly, a cheerful tune rang out, singing out the lyrics from an old cartoon Death didn’t recognize, but Spirit knew all too well; he dug into his pocket, and took out his phone.

Across the screen was a photo of Luz, mouth wide open in a squeal of delight upon seeing what Spirit had wrapped for her birthday.
He always loved seeing that look on her face. Every time he managed to get enough vacation time to visit, he always did his best to bring that expression back.

There was one thing that worried him this time, though.

“… Lord Death, can I take this?” he asked, tone solemn.

“Of course, Spirit,” Death nodded, “Don’t keep her waiting.”

Spirit nodded, and then started down the guillotine gates, bringing the phone up to his ear.

Death returned his attention to the mirror; immediately, an image appeared in its surface, and he began to re-watch Maka and Soul’s battle against the magical cat.

“It’s strange,” he mused, “I could have sworn there was an actual Witch out there…”


Luz?

“… hey, Dad,” Luz sighed, staring listlessly up at the ceiling. The dim nightlight in the corner of the room served as the only source of light in the room, casting a faint, but warm glow throughout the room. She’d slid under the covers, arms outstretched, her phone propped up against her ear with a pillow.

As usual, her alarm clock remained upturned, as the bright green light a nuisance that kept her awake even on the best of nights.

Tonight wasn’t exactly a good night.

What’s up, kiddo? You’re not usually up this late,” he started, “It’s well past one in the morning here. For you it’s gotta be… almost four.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she confessed, “And… well, I really wanted to talk.”

Well, I’m listening,” the Death Scythe assured, “Is something wrong?

She closed her eyes, the memories of the day flooding back; the silent trip in the car after being sent home early. Barely being able to pay attention to the words on the pages of the Good Witch Azura. Trying anything and everything to get the punishment for her book report out of her head… and failing. It loomed over her like a giant on the horizon, every second drawing her closer to it, not so much a car on a highway as a runaway train, with no other track to jump to in hopes of escape.

“… I got in trouble again.”

… oh,” the concern in Dad’s voice was palpable, “What happened?

“I went too far with my book report,” she grumbled, rolling onto her side to stare at the black screen of her phone, “My backup snakes got loose… I got in trouble for bringing live animals and fireworks into school.”

… gee. Well, I’m sorry to hear it,” Dad sighed, his voice calm, soothing – not scolding. Never scolding. When was the last time he’d even raised his voice with her? “… but it’s not like the punishment can be that bad, right? You got a little overenthusiastic – that’s normal. It’s not like you hurt anyone.

Luz felt her face scrunch as frustration and sadness welled up in her stomach in a boiling pit of axiety. Her hands clenched the bedsheets, and she could feel her nails even through the fabric.

Luz? You still there?

“Kids got bitten,” she admitted, “The snakes weren’t poisonous, but… well, they were a lot less happy to be in school than I thought. And when I lost track of them…”

… oh.

“Yeah. Oh,” she repeated.

… so, what happened?” she could tell from Dad’s tone he was trying not to immediately assume the worst.

“… I’m getting sent to a summer camp once the school year ends in a couple weeks. Camp Reality Check,” she pushed herself up, sitting back against the wall. Why couldn't’ she just sit still? “I’ll still get all my grades and everything, but… I have to go to a Camp that’s supposed to teach me to reign myself in.”

… well, that’s…” he trailed off, clearly unsure what to say. What could he say, really, to make her feel better? Tell her this was better than being suspended or expelled? That it was for her own good?

Unseen by his daughter, Spirit shook his head. No. No, he couldn’t tell her that. She was already feeling miserable enough. She’d most definitely already heard that, too many times already.

… I’m sorry, Luz. That… that’s rough.

She gave a light, affirmative ‘hm’ of agreement, letting her head fall back against the wall.

… is there anything I can do for you? Tonight, tomorrow?” he asked, “I should be able to visit soon. Maybe… we can meet up before you have to go?

Luz bit her lip, pulling her legs up to her chest. Should she ask?... she knew what the answer was probably going to be. But at the very least, it couldn’t hurt to make sure… right?...

Luz?” he asked again, “You alright?... you want to talk in the morning?

“… no, I’m fine. Just…”

Just?

“… Papi… do you think you could get me into DWMA?”

She heard his breath hitch, the sudden inhale making her heart plummet; for a long few moments, the only evidence to Luz that Dad hadn’t hung up was the fact that she could still hear his breaths.

“… I don’t want to go to this summer camp,” she managed, her voice low as she struggled to keep it from warbling; despite her efforts, she felt, more than heard it crack, “I don’t want to have a reality check. I feel like fitting in means I’m going to have to give up everything I love doing. I’m… I’m scared. I don’t want to.

… I know, Luz,” the Death Scythe assured, “I know.

“DWMA has summer classes, doesn’t it?” she asked, “I can start with those. I’ll stay out of the way, I won’t get in trouble, I promise. Just… please…”

Luz,” Papi’s voice grew stern, but remained gentle, “… you know you wouldn’t be in my way. And if you somehow got into bigger trouble than Black Star or Soul, I would be very, very surprised. You’re enthusiastic, not a troublemaker. You understand that, don’t you?

“… yeah,” she sighs, a small weight lifting from her stomach; a tiny relief, “I understand that.”

I’d happily give you room and board if you ever came here. I would love to have you around; you’d have to play a bit of catch up, but I know you. It might take a couple of months, but I know you’d work hard in order to get yourself up to speed,” the pride in his tone was almost enough to completely turn Luz’s mood around; she had sat up again, holding her phone against her ear, the small hints of a smile on her face… but as he trailed off, she felt it falter.

… but, you know that isn’t my decision,” Dad reminded her, his own tone sullen, “Your mother has full custody over you; whether or not you can come here is ultimately her call. And… well, I think you know what she’d say to sending you to another state. Much less DWMA.

Luz’s eyes fell closed and her jaw set as she took in a long, slow breath, letting her head snap back into the wall with an audible thud as relief turned to resignation. She didn’t bother to stifle the whine that escaped her, instead opting to curl in on herself again.

She knew what Mami’s answer would be.

“... it can’t be that dangerous, can it?... Maka’s younger than me by a year, and she’s attending.”

The difference there being that Maka has been learning to use her Soul Wavelength for quite a while now,” he pointed out, “Unfortunately, you’ve never had the chance to learn how to do that.

“I can learn,” she insisted, “You said yourself I could catch up.”

And you could. I’m not disputing that, Luz, not for an instant. You’re a very capable young woman. But you have to understand – DWMA isn’t the place you go to if you’re hoping for a normal life. It’s a training ground… and I can’t say I blame your mother for not wanting to send you here. Being a Weapon or Meister isn’t the safest career path.

“… I know. But at least I’d fit in without having to stop being… me.”

A long, heavy silence hung between them.

… tell you what, Luz,” he began, his tone optimistic, “I’ll talk to your mother about this in the morning, okay?

Her eyes shot open, here heart skipping a beat, “You will!?”

I will.

It was all Luz could do to keep herself from squealing as a mix of joy and sweet relief washed over her. She slapped a hand over her mouth, feeling her smile reach so far up her cheeks that it physically ached.

Don’t get your hopes up,” Dad warned, voice stern once more, “I can’t promise that she’s going to say yes. There’s a good chance that she won’t, but… hey, it doesn’t hurt to try, right?

At this, Luz sobered somewhat, though her smile remained firmly in place this time. She nodded, “Right… I really hope she does, though. I really wanna see Death City. And the DWMA. Oh, and Maka!”

She’s missed you, you know,” there was a slight hint of mischief in his voice, “She won’t admit it, but I think Maka wants to see her big sister.

Luz snorted, giggling, “Weren’t you the one telling me not to get my hopes up just now, Dad?”

Right, right,” he chuckled, “Sorry. My bad.

“Apology accepted.”

I’m glad. Now, I think you should get some sleep. It’s four in the morning over there, and I don’t wanna get in trouble with your mother for keeping you up so late.

“Yeah,” she bobbed her head, “... hey, Papi?

He didn’t even miss a beat, “Yes, Mi Cielito?”

“… thanks for picking up. And… for listening.”

I’m your father, Luz. That’s my job.

“Even so. Thank you.”

… anytime. Te amo, Corazoncito.”

Te amo, Papi. Night.”

Goodnight.

With that, the line went dead.

She pulled the phone down from her ear, a melancholy sigh escaping her as she stared up at the laughing moon high above, “Wish I could be as sure of what’s coming as you, Ms. Moon…”

Finally, she reached for her nightlight, switching it off, and curled up beneath the covers, slowly falling into slumber.


The black cat slowly slunk through the shadows, cheerily humming to herself as she adjusted her large, black hat over her purple hair. Her golden eyes gleamed as she reached the top of a dune, sweeping across the desert.

Death City. It really was a sight to behold, if only because of how strange it was; it looked more like a castle than any modern day city. There weren’t any skyscrapers to speak of, and what buildings poked over the towering cobblestone walls didn’t bring to mind any sort of bustling metropolis. With all the rickety roofs, crooked windows, and conjoined buildings, it gave an impression closer to that of an old town left by the wayside, growing ever more crooked with age – the perfect home for all sorts of classic horrors.

The highest building of all, though, was that of the Death Weapon Meister Academy, its jet black walls rendering it almost invisible against the night sky; the only reason it could be seen at all was because of the many giant candles that extended from it, casting light all across the town and acting as beacons that could be seen for miles, illuminating the three pronged mask of the Grim Reaper that had become so well known.

She smiled.

This city would be her new home, from now on.

“… you know, I still can’t believe that you’re actually willing to go in there.”

The voice was equal parts wry and cheerful despite its contralto, a voice perfectly suited to a classical Witch’s cackle; the cat turned, and came face to face with a pale woman in a dark red dress, her long grey hair lightly tousled by the cold desert gales. Her golden eyes flashed with mischief, her single golden fang enriching an already toothy grin as she turned to size the cat up, “I might not be a conventional Witch, but even I know better than to go traipsing through Death’s hometown.”

The cat giggled, bringing a hand to her mouth, causing her purple curls to flounce; her short black dress and long sleeves flapped gently in the wind, as if in agreement, “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a Witch. I’m just a cat. Death’s got no reason to have me hunted down.”

“Aren’t you the lucky one,” the Witch remarked dryly.

“I really am.”

“You’re free to believe that when you can actually win a round of Hexas Hold ‘Em, Blair.”

“I can so win Hexas Hold ‘Em!” she pouted, “You just cheat, Eda!”

A snorting laugh, “Me? Cheat? I would never.

“Right,” Blair sniffed.

A quiet moment passed, filled only by the wind.

“… so. What were doing in my neck of the woods, anyways?” Blair crossed her arms, genuinely curious, “It’s not like you to leave the Boiling Isles yourself.”

“I sent Owlbert out to do the usual collection,” Eda gently stroked the wooden owl atop her staff, “He got caught up in a little trouble chasing a particular piece of junk, so I had to come fetch him.”

“I see,” the cat nodded, pursing her lips, “And here I was ready to lecture you about how that little stunt of yours cost me one of my Souls.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Eda’s smile didn’t fade as she met Blair’s gaze, “I figured you’d be able to handle a couple of brats that weak, even if they didn’t believe you were a cat. I’m surprised you played with them for so long, though. You usually lose interest a lot more quickly than that.”

“It was my first time seeing a real Demon Weapon!” Blair squealed with obvious delight, “That little scythey boy was so cute! And his Meister was really just fun to mess with! They were so fun, I couldn’t help myself!”

“And is that why you’ve decided you’re living there, now?” the Witch pointed to the city, “In the Grim Reaper’s house, middle of nowhere, Nevada? Because that’s where your new favourite playmates live?”

“You got it!”

“Heh. And people call me crazy,” Eda shook her head in mock dismay, then shrugged, “But hey, whatever floats your boat. I won’t snitch on ya to the Emperor’s Coven or anything. Just be careful not to snitch the Isles to anyone, alright?”

“Eda, I don’t even know where the closest portal to the Witch Realm even is,” Blair mewled, “And last time I checked, you’re the only one with a portal directly to and from the Isles themselves.”

“Then don’t sell me out,” Eda’s grin widened, “There are enough people who want to take me in without adding Death’s cronies to the list.”

“Don’t they already want you, though? I’ve heard that the Owl Lady is a pretty high profile target for the DWMA,” Blair noted, smugly.

“Correction, I don’t need more of Death’s cronies added to the list,” Eda grumbled, shooting the cat a dirty look, “I might be able to run circles around most of the Weapons and Meisters that they churn out today, but avoiding fights in the first place is the best way to stay safe. And I’d rather not get a Death Scythe sent after me, even if I do like my chances in a fight with one.”

“Fair point.”

“… speaking of the Boiling Isles, though,” Eda sighed, spinning her staff. The owl perched on its top spread its wings, its eyes glowing gold, and when Eda let go, it hovered in the air, totally suspended by its own power. The red-clad Witch sat down, letting it carry her a few feet up into the air, “I really need to be heading back. It’s probably already past dawn there and I’d rather not screw up my sleep schedule any more than it already is.”

“Alright,” Blair smiled up at her, “Stay safe out there, okay?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, you dumb cat?” Eda smirked.

“Someone who’s done me a huge favour!” Blair shot back.

Eda let out a harsh, snorting laugh, then took off into the sky, soon becoming nothing more than a dwindling silhouette against the grinning moon.

Blair watched for a long while, waiting until the dark speck that was the Witch had completely faded into the dark backdrop of the night, before turning back to Death City. She snapped her fingers, a blast of smoke surrounding her, and where a beautiful young woman once stood, was now just a black cat with a comically oversized hat.

“Time to head home,” she mused, conjuring a jack-o-lantern; it floated in midair, grinning face illuminated by orange candles, and when she hopped atop it, it began to float off towards the city, “I think I’m gonna like living with Maka and Soul…”

Notes:

Translation for Luz's and Spirit's Spanish:

"Mi cielito" and "Corazoncito" are both terms of endearment. "Me cielita" also exists, but is apparently more of a pet name.

"Te amo" means "Love you," and can be interchanged with "Te quiero!"

They're applicable to both genders according to my translator. Everyone give a big round of applause to maho_kat on Archive of Our Own, who is being extremely gracious in offering me her help!

There will be changes to both how Soul Eater and Owl House progress in this story. One of the big changes is going to be the ages of Maka's parents (specifically Spirit), and how magic works in the Boiling Isles to make the series compatible.

But don't worry; I think I have a strong handle on this.

Thank you for giving this story a read. Please be sure to leave your thoughts on this below; every comment helps hone my work into something better.

I hope you all enjoyed the first instalment of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!