DOUGH: Hey...why ya'all open this? And read it? Why stay here and read this? đź—ż
No no no don't swipe down yet! I'm genueinly ask! why read this fanfic of mine?
Hey!
OI!
Wait!!...
Why...
You
Hey!!!
Sigh...
DOUGH: did ya already see the tag i already put?
DOUGH:Come on!! Don't read this,go to mfanfiction or AO3.. i believe there good one there...
DOUGH:.....
DOUGH:...
LEMON:Ooh~ they so stuborn~~
DOUGH: They know...here would be have less Yuri stuff,right?
LEMON: believe soo~
DOUGH: Fuck .....whatever...enjoy it...i Made it for shit and fun anyway not serious...
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Years rolled by for the Scotch and Noceda families. From the time Luz was four months old and Raffy was five months, their lives had been tied together. From pre-school kindergarten to Elementary school, from five-year-olds learning to read to seven-year-olds figuring out how the world worked—they grew side by side.
They did everything together. Learning to ride their bikes, trying sports for the first time , building forts out of blankets/pillows, sneaking snacks, even attending their first Comic-Con with both families—it was always Luz and Raffy,they always has been doing anything together—well Raffy that get dragging all the times.
As for luz? She, as always, had her head full of magic and fantasy. She carried around her favorite series, The Good Witch Azura, like a holy book. Ever since her dad gave her that first volume, she'd been hooked. Every new release, every new volume—she devoured it instantly, dragging Raffy along for the the book,then read it with him.
"Raffy, read this part! It's sooo good!" she'd insist, shoving the book into his hands as she say don't on his lap.
Raffy—mentally a man in his twenties stuck in the body of a boy—only sighed and went along with it. Not because he cared about Azura, but because he knew there was no escaping Luz's grip. That link—whatever cruel chain the god tied between them—meant he would always be pulled along. And truthfully? He didn't mind as much as he pretended—he try to get grid of his situation and mental stage to not swept away.
(Author:NPC/extra worst nightmare....being bound with the protagonist...)
Even though Raffy tried to keep a little distance from the "main character" of this world, it never worked. Luz always dragged him along wherever she went—ever since they were four, all the way to seven now. From preschool to kindergarten, she never stopped pulling Raffy around with her.
"Raffy, isn't this part cool?" Luz grinned, shoving a book of The Good Witch Azura at him. She was sitting right on his lap when he sat on noceda household couch, pointing at the page like it was treasure.
Raffy glanced at the words, his chin resting on her shoulder while she jabbed her finger across the lines. "...Yeah, cool," he muttered. He had been reading a couple pages out loud for her, but honestly, his main focus was making sure she didn't elbow him in the stomach by accident.
Luz pout hearing his flat dry answer as she look back at Raffy. "Why you say it like that Rafffyyy!" she said, throwing a little fake tantrum, her hands waving around like she was casting a spell. Raffy just rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch. "Because it is cool, Luz, I just don't gotta scream about it like a maniac," he shot back, smirking. She puffed her cheeks in protest, then suddenly grinned and bonked her forehead lightly against his."ouch!"cries raffy. "You're no fun… but you're my no fun hehehe," she said, giggling."sigh.."Raffy sighed, but deep down he couldn't help but let out a tiny laugh too. Moments like this—annoying, loud, full of Luz's overactive stubborness—were the kind of very loud and tired some second life,that he'd somehow gotten used to.
---
But then came the year everything changed.
When Luz turned ten, Manny—her father, her hero—finally lost his battle with the illness he had carried for so long.
The Scotch family was there, standing with Camila as her world broke apart. Anie and Fernando did what they could, but the hardest wound was in Luz herself.
She had to be pulled back by three adults as she kicked and screamed.
"Let me go! ¡Déjenme ir! I want to see my dad! I want to see him! Sniff—sniff... ¡Papi!"
Nothing worked. No words, no comfort, nothing could calm her.
Until Raffy stepped forward.
He walked past the adults, past Camila's broken expression, and wrapped his arms around Luz. She shook against him, crying into his shoulder, her small fists clutching at his shirt as if letting go meant losing her father all over again.
Raffy—who in his first life He already knows how it feels to lose someone he loves—the memories of his previous life that he still has make him remember what emotions he experienced,he felt related to Luz's current situation—only tightened his arms around her.
"There, there, Luz," he whispered. "I'm here."
---
The days after were quiet. Too quiet.
For months, Luz's light dimmed. Her usual laughter, her wide grin—gone. Camila tried. Every night she sat by her daughter's bed, brushing her hair, whispering:
"Mi hija… everything is going to be alright. Mami's here. You're not alone."
But Luz only nodded silently, her heart heavy. She even stopped making her little vlogs—the video diaries she often Made when her father had given her the laptop for, on her sixth birthday. The cheerful entries she once recorded almost daily faded into silence.
---
But someone refused to let that silence stay.
Rafheal..
Every day, without fail, he came to her house. Sometimes with snacks, sometimes with dumb jokes, sometimes just with his presence. He teased her, prodded her, made fun of her until she couldn't help but roll her eyes or laugh a little.
"Oi, crybaby! I'm here again," he'd say, leaning against her doorframe with that smirk.
And every time, Luz would smile—small at first, fragile, but real—and throw her arms around him.
Little by little, the cracks in her world began to heal. Not fully. The hole her father left behind would never truly close. But thanks to Raffy, she found her way back to laughter. Back to drawing...back to bright herself...back to be Luz—he healed her.
He had been there for her at her lowest. Not as a knight that he always play too nor as some chosen one. Just as Raffy. Her childhood friend, the one who stay and the one who heal.
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At first, Raffy never wanted to care too much about Luz. He tried to keep his distance, reminding himself that their bond wasn't something he chose—it was something forced on him. A cruel chain that tied him to her.
But as the years passed, that wall he built slowly crumbled. The more time he spent with Luz, the more her energy chipped away at him. By the time they both turned ten, he had already softened.
And then Manny died.
That moment shattered everything."So that's what happened, huh…" Raffy murmured under his breath as he sat in the pews, watching the funeral unfold. "No wonder I never saw her dad in Season 1…"
His parents were at Camila's side, comforting her. But Luz… Luz was inconsolable.
She was a child who had just lost her father.
She screamed and fought against the adults who tried to hold her steady, her small frame thrashing desperately.
"¡SuĂ©ltame! ¡SuĂ©ltame! Let me go! I… I wanna see my dad! ¡PapĂ! Sniff… sniff!"
Her voice cracked, raw from crying. Even when the older women whispered gently to her, even when her mother reached for her, nothing helped. Raffy couldn't watch anymore. He rose from his seat and walked toward her.
"Luz…" he called softly.
But she didn't hear him. She was lost in her grief, trembling and sobbing, the fight still in her.
So he did the only thing he could. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into a firm embrace.
"Luz… stop," he whispered, his voice calm and steady in a way that didn't feel like a ten-year-old's. "You can't… you can't be like this."
She froze at his words, her tears still streaming down her cheeks. Slowly, he turned her to face him. Her brown eyes—once so bright—were red and swollen, drowning in grief.
"Your dad would be sad," Raffy said quietly, meeting her gaze. "Seeing you like this at his funeral… he wouldn't want that."
For a moment, she just stared at him, broken and vulnerable. Not the Luz he knew. Not the "protagonist of the Owl House." Just a kid. A ten-year-old girl who had lost her dad.
"Luz…" Raffy started again, but before he could finish, she collapsed into his chest, hugging him with all the strength her little body could muster.
"R… Rafheal… R… Raffy… my… my dad…" she choked out between sobs. Raffy closed his eyes, holding her tighter, his hand gently patting her head."I know," he whispered. "It's okay… it's okay. I'm here."
And in that moment, Raffy understood something: no matter how much he had wanted to stay detached, no matter how much he cursed the god that chained him to her, he couldn't help but care. Because she needed him now on her low point— he couldn't walk away.
---
Recovery didn't happen overnight. Sure, Raffy helped Luz smile again, but it took time. There were still days where the sadness weighed too heavily, where memories of her dad would sneak back in and bring tears with them.
And every time, Raffy was there. He never stopped comforting her, never stopped finding some way to make her laugh.
One night,several months after the funeral, Luz woke up screaming from a nightmare. She sat up in bed, her small body shaking, surrounded by her stuffed animals like silent guardians. Her dream had been of her father—alive, then gone again.
She cried into her blanket, her voice raw with panic.
And instead of calling for her mom first, the person she reached for was Raffy.
Camila stirred awake from the noise down the hall, but before she could reach her daughter's room, Luz had already dialed Raffy's number with trembling fingers.
"Raffy…" she whispered through hiccupped sobs.
On the other end, Raffy's voice came steady, even though he was half-asleep."There, there, Luz. It's just a nightmare. You're safe now."
He stayed on the line with her, speaking gently until her crying slowed. Then, without thinking, he began to hum.
It was a lullaby his mother had sung to him long ago, the kind that wrapped around him like a blanket whenever he was scared (more like panic). He wasn't a singer, not really, but his voice was enough—soft, warm, grounding.
By the time Camila finally opened Luz's bedroom door, she stopped in surprise. Her daughter was already asleep again, her breathing even, clutching the phone against her pillow.
Raffy was still singing quietly on the other end of the line, unaware Camila was watching from the doorway, for the first time in weeks, Camila let herself smile.
---
It wasn't just at home, either. Raffy stayed by Luz's side at school too.
By four grade, the two of them were always together in class. Luz, with her endless energy and odd habits, often stood out among the other kids. She'd make weird jokes, scribble fantasy doodles in her notebooks, or burst out with too much enthusiasm. Sometimes, that made her a target.
But whenever trouble stirred, Raffy was there. If the kids whispered, he glared them down. If anyone pushed her too far, he stood between them. And if things got bad enough, he made sure the teacher knew what was going on,he make sure to proctect her.
When Luz struggled with subjects she didn't understand, Raffy patiently explained them. Thanks to the knowledge he carried over from his past life, he breezed through assignments with ease. But more importantly, he used that knowledge to help her keep up.
And slowly, day by day, Luz began to heal.
Even if Raffy didn't want to admit it—he understood her better than anyone. He could read the small changes in her moods, knew when she needed cheering up and when she needed silence.
Sometimes, he leaned on lessons from his previous life—things he had no business knowing at ten years old—to help guide her through her grief.
It was a long road. There were setbacks. But in the end, he helped her through it—not because he was chained to her ,but because… he wanted to.
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CAMILA POV
Time really does fly fast.
One moment, I was just a young woman hanging out with my two best friends, Anie and Fernando. The next, I met the man of my dreams. A couple of years later, we were married, building a life together. We moved to Gravesfield when I became pregnant with our first child.
Months passed, and then came our greatest joy—our daughter, Luz. The day she was born was the most beautiful, tear-filled moment of my life, one I'll never forget.
Time with Manny and Luz was a blessing—every laugh, every quiet night, every little memory stitched into my heart. And then, in what felt like a single flash, it was gone.
After Manny passed away, I broke. It felt like the ground had been torn out from under me, like the world itself had ended.
But Anie and Fernando—my friends since high school, since college—they caught me when I fell. They stood by me when the pain was unbearable, when I couldn't breathe without crying.
Even with their help, though, I knew the truth: I had to survive—for her. Mi única hija. My baby Luz.
She needed a mother. She needed me. I couldn't collapse in front of her, no matter how shattered I felt inside. I had to be strong. For her. For us.
Money? That didn't matter. I could work longer hours, sacrifice sleep, juggle a hundred things at once. What mattered most was Luz's heart, her spirit, her mind. And right then, all of that was broken. She had just turned ten—still a child. She had lost her father. And me? I crumbled in tears, even as I tried to stand tall for her.
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After the weeks following my husband's funeral, I kept my eyes on Luz—watching her every little change, her every silence. At first, she was just quiet. Too quiet.
I told myself she needed space, that this was how grieving worked. Luz had always been so close to her dad—closer to him than to me in so many ways—so of course the loss cut her deeper. But days bled into weeks, weeks into months, and still… nothing. She stayed silent.
I tried everything. I held her tight at night, I asked about her day, I whispered every soft, desperate word I could think of to comfort her. And all she ever gave me was a small, strained smile. A smile that shattered me, because I knew it wasn't real.
My baby girl was slipping away, sinking deeper into the pain—and no matter how hard I reached, I couldn't pull her back.
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But then, somehow… she began to recover.
And it wasn't because of me.it was because of him. Rafhael—Anie and Fernando's boy.
That child… he had been with Luz since the very beginning. From when they were just months old, they had grown up together. While Luz was a storm of energy and imagination, Raffy was her opposite. Always calm. Too calm, even—Anie used to worry about him when he was a toddler. Said he never showed the kind of excitement most babies did. But she loved him just the same.
And now, that same calm boy was the one reaching out to my daughter. And it worked. Like magic.
---
I watched them together.
Studying side by side. Walking home from school together. Raffy making sure Luz was okay, again and again, never losing patience with her.
And slowly, my little girl smiled again. Not the forced smile she gave me. But a real one. Bright and alive. It made me cry when no one was looking.
Mi amada hija. My Luz.
And the truth is… Raffy understood her better than I did. Sometimes I wondered how. He seemed to know her moods, her needs, even the way she thought. Almost like he secretly understanding Luz like no one else could,even me—i feel like losing actually,to mere child. But still because of him, Luz came back to herself.
---
Raffy and his parents ,my two dearest friends still came often, just like when came as Always.even like when my husband —manny still alive. To me, they weren't just friends anymore. They were family.
I used to worry that Luz only had Raffy as her one and only friend. That it wasn't healthy, that she needed more. But then I remembered something Manny once told me:
"Better to have one true friend than ten fake ones."
Those words lingered in my heart. And when I looked at Luz smiling again, laughing again… I knew he was right. Funny, isn't it? Raffy's name. Rafhael If you spell it with a "ph," it almost becomes Rap—oh my kidding. I just hope that him still be close with my little Luz.
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OMAKE
TITTLE: PROCTECTOR
Raffy POV
I never knew there were this many problematic kids in one school.
Some I could ignore. Some I'd just report to the teachers when they messed with Luz.
But today? Here I am, backed into a corner.
"That's him! That's the fourth-grade kid who's been snitching on us to the teachers! Always protecting those losers we pick on!"
The voice belonged to a kid trying way too hard to look dangerous — a wannabe rockstar with dyed-green hair, a cheap earring, and these overly feminine mannerisms that made him stand out like a sore thumb. Five other ninth-graders circled around him. Six against one.
A bunch of idiots, honestly. I could see one of them had that hollow look — like he came from a broken home, all that bottled-up anger. Felt kind of sad, but it didn't excuse a jackass like them.
"Heh,what bummer" I muttered.
---
"This runt? Wait… ain't this the same kid who's always hanging with that weirdo girl? Ohhh, this'll be fun. We beat him bloody and let his little 'girlfriend' cry over him. Hahaha!"
That came from the fat one, cracking his knuckles like he thought he was in some gangster movie. Wow. What a cliché bully.
Now, I could've run. I didn't want to fight. I'm only ten, 4th grade. They're fifteen. Odds? Not in my favor.
At least… that's what anyone else would think.
But me? I slipped my hand into the pocket of my cargo pants, pulled out a small metal tube, and pressed the button on top. Click. The thing extended, locking into place. A solid steel pole—telescopic staff.
The kids froze for a second, wide-eyed. A 10-year-old with a weapon? Yeah, that shocked them.
"What a pain in the ass," I muttered under my breath. As they charged toward me.
---
You probably thinking imma just bluffing and would run away by Dodge them...well here's the thing—Mom and Dad ain't raise coward bitch.
I planted my feet and clenched the telescopic staff so tight my knuckles ached. They came at me like a pack of angry dogs, and I didn't wait.
A swing to the jaw—crack! His head snapped sideways, spit flying. A quick jab drove into another's stomach—ooof! He folded over, clutching himself. I swept one kid's legs clean out, and before he even hit the ground, I kicked his face sideways.
The staff gave me reach, balance, even rhythm. I planted it in the dirt, vaulted off like a pole, and smashed my heel down on some kid's back. He collapsed with a wheeze, and I landed light.
"Alright," I muttered, chest heaving.
But they were still getting up. Bloodied lips, angry eyes, stumbling but refusing to quit.
"Take this, you little—!" one of them spat, swinging wide. Sloppy. I ducked, drove the staff deep into his stomach, and felt the air rush out of him as he groaned. I cracked the butt of the staff across his skull—he dropped, twitching.
The others charged anyway, tripping over their own fury. I didn't stop moving. Crack to a shin, slam to a shoulder, thud across a cheekbone. Every hit echoed, every swing kept them off balance. They tried to swarm me, but the staff kept snapping out, breaking their rush. One by one, they went down, groaning, crawling, dragging themselves up only to fall again.
This wasn't going to end quick. They kept coming, and I kept hammering them back, my staff flashing like iron lightning in my hands..."sigh...these dumbasses."
Again and again I beat them. One by one they went down—groaning, cursing, writhing in the dirt behind the school where no one could see. Their voices didn't even carry to the other kids or the teachers. I shrank my telescopic stick back to pocket size and looked down at them. "Seriously—are these kids completely stupid? If anyone normal got their asses handed to them a few times, they'd beg for mercy and run. But them? Damn, they're really dumb."
Don't get me wrong — I wasn't trying to break anyone's bones (I swear I didn't). I didn't want to get hurt either. They jumped me and tried to beat me up—why? Because they were bullying Luz. At first I wanted to just tell a teacher and get them scolded, but they found out I knew and came after me. So yeah, I fought back. Self-defense, okay? If they had half a brain they'd have stopped after the first few losses, but they just kept coming.
---
How am I so good at beating people's asses, you ask? Credit my mom. Between running her companies she'd use her "free time" to torture me—call it discipline, call it bonding, whatever. She'd throw me against walls, make me drill moves until my bones felt like they'd snap. Congrats: I got the skill. Also the back pain. I still feel it, every damn day.
The staff? Dad bought me this telescopic thing for my ninth birthday. I don't know if it's normal for a ten-year-old to walk around with a metal stick, but it works. It's saved my ass more times than I can count, and trust me—when the time comes and I end up in some demon world, it'll come in handy for my own safety.
Most of the time I don't want to fight. I don't want to get my hands dirty. That's why I usually tell the teachers when someone steps out of line.
But someone planning to bully Luz badly? No way. Leave her alone. Luz just barely healed from everything she went through after her dad died.
And I'll be damned if some ninth-grade punks—or some confused kids pretending to be tough—try to make her cry.
I can't believe I'm even saying this. I'm originally hate dealing with the protagonist's problems, but I've got to guard her now. This is one thing I can't ignore seeing child get bulled. I'm mentally an adult, for crying out loud.
So not on my watch will any of those fuckers make her cry. I'm doing this because she's my friend....i cringed myself when i said it,but..
Yeah, I know the main story event kicks off in about four years and Luz will drag me along somehow. I'll probably get pulled into it when she goes. But for now I need to watch her here—even if it's a pain in the ass.
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DOUGH: Cringe chapter i know....
my English suck,i got C on it as that not my main language and Spanish? I don't speak that...