Halloween Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

Klaine Fic: The Witches of Lilibury by SarkyBlueEyes

Synopsis:

Kurt Hummel is in a rut. Having inherited the role of coven leader from his mother earlier than planned, he struggles to find balance between his responsibilities as a witch, and his personal life, in the small town of Lilibury, New England. Then Blaine Anderson moves in across the street. Between planning the annual Halloween Festival, running the family-owned apothecary, and seeing to the needs of the coven, is there room in his life for love?

Authors note:

Hi! This is my first multi chapter fic in YEARS and I am so happy to get it out into the world, bit by bit. I intended to start posting on 1st October, but things didn’t pan out due to my personal schedule so I’m making up for lost time now. This has been a labour of love in the last year and was inspired, initially by my own misfortune with wildlife, specifically birds. That will become clearer as the story progresses.

2 chapters are up and a 3rd will be published on Halloween 🎃

Posting will slow in November, as I am still editing and workshopping the end, but I will endeavour to regularly update. The majority of the fic is written and I’ve got to say I’ve never had this much fun world building. If you have even a fraction of the fun reading, I’ll be happy.

To my friend who read this story early doors and advised me on US history and geography, thank you for your encouragement and continued friendship.

A big thank you to @fionaroleplays for all banners included in this fic.

To @notes-from-nowhere, this fic is your fault because you laughed at my misfortune with birds the hardest.

So without further ado:

The Witches of Lilibury on A03: Chapter 1

Superman Jongho~

ꕥPosted: 11/20/20

ꕥGenre: Fluff & Angst (It ends happy I promise)

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Superman Jongho

ꕥWord Count: 1.6k

ꕥWarnings: Slight language

ꕥA/N: Happy Halloween everyone! I know I haven’t posted in a hot minute but in all fairness college has been kicking my ass so it’s been awhile since I’ve been able to actually sit down and write. I’ll be posting Ice Cream Pt.3 later this week so look out for that!

“Nice costume, babe.” I giggled as I observed the navy blue tailored suit my boyfriend was wearing.

“Thanks, cutie. Any guesses?”

“Hmm.” I tapped my chin, “Michael Scott?”

“Damn. My James Bond outfit is lacking.”

“Maybe carry around a martini glass?”

“Oh I bet you want me to go around saying ‘shaken not stirred’ too, huh?”

“I mean, if the shoe fits.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist, raising a brow.

“I’m quite curious about your costume, actually. Why the change in style?”

Although my skin-tight, light pink dress didn’t align with my usual scary Halloween costumes, I wanted to try something different this year. So why not go as Hello Kitty?

I adjusted the white cat ears on my head, “I do scary stuff every year. I wanted to try something cute for a change.”

“Well, you certainly look it.”

I could feel my face tinting pink.

“Oh shush.”

“We’ve got about five minutes until we need to leave, do you wanna grab a jacket? It’s a bit chilly outside.”

“Hello Kitty doesn’t wear a jacket.”

“Okay but you do, and it’s cold.”

I squinted, wanting to refuse but knowing how easily the cold could make me shiver.

“Fine.”

After quickly grabbing a fluffy, white teddie jacket, I intertwined an arm with Jongho and we left our shared house for the late-night party.

-

Arriving at the party I looked around, surprised at how nice it appeared. Halloween decorations were carefully placed and every person in sight was wearing a different costume.

Jongho left to meet one of his friends, the host of the party, but not before placing a kiss on my cheek. I blushed at the simple action, still getting butterflies even after all this time of dating.

Approaching the punch bowl to get a drink, I quickly caught the eye of a certain pin-up girl. After a moment she turned to me and squealed, running towards me with an impressive speed. I chucked at my best friend’s actions. I was quickly engulfed in a hug I was half convinced would suffocate me if she squeezed any harder.

“Girl! Come ‘ere! How are you?”

“I’m pretty good, Hanna. And you? You seem excited.”

“I am! The party is gorgeous! And guess what?” She lowered her voice, looking around, “I saw him.”

“Oh my god you did not!”

“I did! A man was trying to rob the store I was shopping at earlier this week and I saw him stop the guy!”

“Are you serious?”

“Totally!”

I was surprised to hear a familiar deep laugh by my side, and as I turned I was met with Jongho’s mischievous eyes.

Placing an arm around my waist he spoke, “Are you two still obsessed with Superman?”

“No-”

“YES!”

Jongho tightened his lips into a small smile.

“Listen.” My best friend began, “I just think that he’s admirable, and strong, and his arms just look great-”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” My own questioned.

Hanna waved a hand in the air, “I mean yeah but he knows I think Superman’s cute. I can appreciate an attractive man and still be in love with my boyfriend.”

“Does he think Wonder Woman is cute, too?”

“Yeah well...maybe. But I don’t mind. We’re soulmates and I wouldn’t leave him for anyone. He feels the same.” A dreamy look flashed in her eyes and I couldn’t help but awe at how strongly she clearly felt about him.

Our conversation continued for a while until Hanna noticed the host’s cat trying to drink out of a cup of liquor and quickly ran after him.

We shook our heads in tandem, smiling at her feeble attempt to catch the cat before delighting in the rest of the evening.

-

After the party had come to an end we made our way back home and wandered to our balcony, admiring the beautiful night view.

Jongho tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before placing a few fingers under my chin, lifting it slightly and gently placing his lips on my own.

“I think I’m going to change out of this suit. Care to join me?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to enjoy the night sky for a while.”

He nodded and gave me another quick kiss, heading back inside and leaving me to admire the thousands of shining stars.

I rubbed at my eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit me. Deciding to change into more comfortable clothes, I took one last look at the stars. In my tired state I misjudged where the edge of our balcony was and leaned a bit too far over the edge, causing me to fall. I could barely let out a scream before I felt warm arms around me. I met eyes with my boyfriend and smiled, so, so relived that I was safe. I opened my mouth to thank him as I noticed that we seemed to be hovering mid-air.

“Holy shit. Jongho what’s happening?”

Jongho swallowed and placed me on the safe ground of the balcony, walking towards me.

“I...”

“You’re...him aren’t you?” I stared in disbelief as he gave a small nod.

“Why did you hide this from me?” His eyes lowered, pain evident in them.

“I-I didn’t want to keep it from you. I was just...afraid.”

I tilted my head, trying to understand. In the year that we had dated, Jongho had never shown fear of anything. Not spiders or snakes, scary movies, heights, the deep ocean, anything. And now apparently he’s Superman, too.

What does he have to fear?

Jongho finally looked at me, tears welling in his eyes. There was a sadness and longing in them that I had never seen before.

“I was scared that I would lose you.” He barely spoke above a whisper.

I fought back the hot tears stinging my eyes.

Did he really think I’d leave him that easily?

“Honey, you could never lose me.” I reached out to caress his cheek and sighed when he unconsciously leaned into my touch. Noticing his own actions, Jongho shook his head and pulled away.

“You don’t understand. It’s not just the possibility of you leaving me for who I am, but the danger that you could be put in if you knew. It was just better that you didn’t know.”

“How long were you planning on keeping this from me?”

Even though our words were calm, there was such tangible underlying emotion that we might as well have been screaming.

“As long as possible.”

“Jongho we’re supposed to be a team. How can we be a team when you’re keeping this from me?” I blinked as tears streamed down my face.

I had never seen Jongho cry. The only time he had ever come close was early in our relationship when I was hospitalized for the flu. I couldn’t eat or drink because of how awful I felt. Jongho later confessed that he, for a brief moment, thought he would lose me. Days following my recovery he first told me he loved me. The thought tore my heart everytime I recalled the memory.

And so I thought my eyes were lying to me as I saw Jongho quietly sob.

“I love you. So, so much. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you. I can’t—I can’t—lose you.”

I threw my arms around him, clinging to him as if I let go he’d be gone forever.

“You’re so stupid, Jongho Choi. You could never lose me. I love only you.”

“I can’t guarantee that. And besides, are you even sure you still want to be with me? I’m in danger often and I can’t have you chase after me.” My heart broke in two when I heard his voice crack as he spoke his next words, “You could be with a man who would treat you well, one who isn’t putting himself in danger and-”

I pulled back and rested my hands on his face, pulling him into a soft kiss.

“This doesn’t change who you are. You’re still the same man I fell in love with. If it makes you feel better, I won’t chase after you. As long as it means I can stay with you.”

He gave me a heart-eyed smile, letting out a small laugh and holding me tight.

“I was so scared you’d leave me.” He confessed.

“Never.”

He lifted a hand up to my check, wiping away a tear I didn’t realize fell down my face.

“Please don’t cry. It hurts me to see you sad.”

“It hurts me to see you being stupid and thinking I’d ever leave you.”

“Touché.”

“God I probably look like a mess.” I cursed myself for not wearing water-proof mascara.

“You always look beautiful to me.”

I shook my head at how cheesy he was suddenly being.

“So...” I began, “You can fly, right?”

Jongho lifted a brow, a crooked smile lighting up his features.

“Perhaps. Why do you ask?”

“Can I fly with you? I’ve always wanted to fly.”

Without warning he picked me up, letting my legs wrap around his waist.

“Hold on tight, babe.”

We lifted off the ground and my grip around his shoulders tightened unintentionally.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” I smiled at him, “I trust you. It’s just...my first time flying like this.”

Jongho chuckled. “You get used to it.”

“Oh? Is that an invitation for me to fly with you again?”

“If that’s what you want, then of course.”

I chuckled and noticed that he had stopped flying up. We were a decent height from the ground, but not too terribly high.

Jongho nuzzled my neck and leaned his forehead against mine.

“You are the love of my life, darling.”

Smiling back at the handsome man I was fortunate enough to call my own, I kissed him sweetly.

“And you are mine.”

The Night of the Storm

Transformers Halloween fic time!  Cross posted on AO3.

Summery: Prowl misses his old school, his old life and his kind, awkward uncle.  When his creators decide to send him to an elite boarding school, Prowl is plunged into a world of bullies, controlling teachers, and homesickness.  One night, he runs out into the rain and meets a curious sparkling that is not just a sparkling.  This sparkling is -!

This sparkling is an idiot.  

Prowl&Jazz kid friendship fic!  With light vampire elements!

Prowl was not scared.  He was not a sparkling.  He was not crying.

He just…he just missed Uncle Magnus.

The branch scrapped against the window again and Prowl bit his fist to keep from yelping.  It was a wicked storm and the Darkling season in Praxus was famous for them.  It wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon.

All the other sparklings were in recharge.  

He didn’t know why his creators had decided to send him away to school after ignoring him for most of his life.  Why couldn’t they have just left him with Uncle Magnus?

The room lit up with strange, bizarre shadows as the lightning spiraled down to the metal planet, sending arcs and sparks out in all directions.

Prowl grabbed the heavy blanket and pulled it tightly around his shoulders and imagined it was Uncle Magnus, hugging him on the couch.

On stormy nights when neither of them could sleep, Prowl would curl up against Uncle Magnus and listen to him read.  Uncle Magnus didn’t care for vids and had never owned a holoscreen.  He said the pictures ruined a good story.  As he grew, Prowl found he preferred listening to stories as well.

He wanted to go home.

Was Uncle Magnus sitting up, right now?  Was he still reading The Mystery of the Floating Optic? Or had he only been reading that for Prowl?  He claimed he’d been waiting for Prowl to be old enough to read it to.  He’d said it was his favorite as a sparkling.  Had he lied?

No.  Prowl shook his helm under the covers.  Uncle Magnus didn’t lie to him.  He needed to remember that.  Uncle Magnus always told him the truth.

And he loved him.  Even if he said it with actions instead of words like Archivist Orion and Officer Strongarm.

He built the picture up in his mind.  The tiny front room with the squashy couch facing the huge window.  They were on a high floor and their room looked out over the ocean.  They could watch the storms roll in and have sweet energon and spicy crisps.  Uncle Magnus would –

Was that a window opening?  No, everyone was asleep.  He was fine.

Uncle Magus would pick up their book from the table and scroll down to where they’d left off.  He’d –

That sounded like something slithering across the floor, didn’t it?  Or was it the rain against the window again?

He’d start reading right where he’d left off, as if they’d never paused and he’d show Prowl the pictures.  There was a really scary one where Detective Lamplight was walking down an alley and he didn’t know that behind him –

Something slammed into the berth frame and shrieked. Prowl threw himself out of bed and screamed, pulling the blanket over him.  He started to roll under the berth – find a safe place to defend from, then attack – when he heard the laughing.

He saw a half dozen pairs of pedes bouncing in excitement as they spoke.

“Did you see him?”

“What a snotling!”

“He screamed and everything!”

“Hey, slagbrains!  Anyone ever tell you monsters aren’t real?”

“Aw, want creator and carrier, little sparkling?”

“Run away home, little sparkling!”

They burst into louder, rougher, crueler mirth and it scratched at his plating like glass shards.

Prowl stood up.  He was sad and lonely and he hated them.  His spark was exploding out of his chest and they were laughing.

He wanted to – he wanted to – hewantedtohewantedtohewantedto –

Prowl ran.

The blanket slipped from his servos and he slammed into the dormitory doors.  The hallway flew by him – his pedes weren’t touching the floor – and then he was out in the storm, still running.

The problem was, that he could. He’d taken martial arts classes since before he came up to Uncle Magnus’s knee.  He could have hit the other younglings.  They were just other younglings.  They’d probably only gotten into playground scrapes before.

Prowl could have hit them and they’d have stayed down.

And because he could have, he didn’t.

Prowl’s pedes slapped the wet ground as he slowed, splishing in the puddles of oil and solvent rain.  He came to a stop in the big courtyard, the grand hall on one end, the professor’s quarters on the other.  The huge, gaudy front gardens looked dull and messy in the storm.

He stood still, helm down, letting the steady, firm rhythm of the rain solder him to the ground.  He out here, in the quiet, he felt like himself, like Prowl, Magnus’s creation, the enforcers’ favorite and the librarian’s bane.

Prowl stood still in the downpour and vented.  The rain collected above his optics and dripped heavily onto his chest.  He could feel it running down his back and drizzling off his fingertips like cold lightning.  He stared at the chapel, tinted purple in the rain.  The small, run-down chapel was the only thing Prowl liked about his new school.  The rest of it was…style and pomp, Sergeant Kup would have said.  It made Prowl vaguely embarrassed to be a student.

He would have to go back in.  He briefly entertained the thought of running away, back to Uncle Magnus, but shut it down quickly.  He would only send Prowl back and Prowl didn’t think he could watch that again.  If there had been anyone sadder than Prowl that day at the train station, it had been Uncle Magnus.

Prowl had pretended not to hear the many – many – angry conversations between Uncle Magnus and his creators.  He had heard the words “socially maladjusted” more than once on both ends.

Well, if this school was an example of well-adjusted younglings, Prowl preferred the company of his fellow weirdos.

Prowl was just starting to convince himself that the idea of going back inside and drying off sounded nice – it was difficult, but he’d been captain of the debate team back home – when he noticed something odd.

At some point, while he’d been staring at the chapel, it had started staring back at him.

Two dim green optics shone out of the top window.  Which was strange, because Prowl knew that behind that window was open air, since the chapel had vaulted ceilings and no attic.

And, because he was Prowl again, not the cringing shadow of himself that the school was slowly forcing him to be, he marched up to the chapel doors to see what was hovering twenty feet in the air, inside a sacred house.

0-0-0

Prowl didn’t pause to knock, he threw open the doors and looked straight up.

“Eep!”

He stared into the bright green optics of another sparkling, floating above him, servo over it’s mouth.

“Eep!” it said again and plastered itself to the wall, as if that would hide it from view.  It did not.

“I can see you!” Prowl shouted up.  “What are you doing in here?!”  He put his servos on his hips and tried to look like Uncle Magnus when he spoke to the door-to-door salebots.

“Um…Ah’m not!  Ah’m…ah – ah – Ah’m –“ the sparkling sputtered.  Its – his – voice was high and thin.  “’m an optic-owl!”

“No, you’re not.  You’re too big and you don’t have wings.”

“Ah’m two optic-owls!” he shouted down desperately.  Unfortunately, Prowl had noticed, that as he’d been talking, the window in front of him was vibrating, the old, rusty latched threatening to give way under the wind.  He opened his mouth to warn him.

At that moment, it snapped.  The window slammed open, smacking into the sparkling that had been clinging to it, and sending him tumbling to the ground in front of Prowl.

Prowl rushed forwards and bent down.

“Are you okay?!”  He grabbed the sparkling’s helm and turned it, looking for dents, like Uncle Magnus did whenever Prowl fell turning training.   “What hurts?”  He didn’t have a first aid kit, but he could run back up to the school if -

The sparkling sat up with a groan, letting his servos fall into his lap, optics mournful.

“Mah pride,” he said sadly, rubbing his backside and wincing.  He slump forwards.  “Ah am an idiot.”

“Yes,” Prowl agreed.  He brushed a bit of chapel dust off the mech’s forehelm.  “Why are you in our chapel?”

“Cause it’s rainin’ outside it?” he said, confused.

“I mean, why aren’t you at home with your family?  Are you lost?”  Wasn’t there something else – “and how were you floating?  You’re not a seeker.  Why are your optics green?  I’ve never seen green optics.”

He certainly wasn’t a seeker.  He was smaller than Prowl with rounded shoulders and a wide face.  He was silver all over with a single red stripe going down each side.

The sparkling blinked at him.

“Ah dunno?  Every energon seeker Ah know has green optics so –“

“Every what?”

“Energon seeker?”  The sparkling kicked his pedes, nervously.  “Ya not a Seeker hunter, are ya?  ‘Cause if ya are – I’m not one!  I’m an optic-owl shifter!”

“I am not,” Prowl answered, peering closer now.  Uncle Magnus didn’t read a lot of scary stories, but his class had read Tales of the Energy-Suckers and he’d seen Don’t Let It In! with Officer Kup, who had laughed through the whole movie.

The sparkling had strange colored optics.

He could float without anti-gravs or wings.

He had called himself an energon seeker.

He had, now that Prowl looked, two sets of very sharp, very long, fangs.

Oh.

Prowl considered, briefly, being scared.  He decided against it.  It wasn’t useful and being scared of something like, well, the clumsy sparkling in front of him would be embarrassing.

“Are you going to attack me?” he asked and the sparkling jumped.

“Wha – no!  Carrier says ta always ask first!  It’s rude not ta ask!”  He was shaking his helm quickly.  “Ah’d get such a lecture if Ah didn’t ask!  So, can I?”

“Can you what?”  Prowl asked before his processor caught up.

“Bite ya? Ah’ve been flying all night and –“

“No! You – “  This was getting him nowhere.  Every time he asked a question the sparkling sparked two more.  First things first.

“My name is Prowl.  What is yours?”

The sparkling sprang to his pedes and smiled.

“Ah’m Jazz!  Nice ta meet ya!”  He stuck out his servo and Prowl shook it.  Then he tried to let go.

“Jazz?”

“Yeah?”  Was he inching forwards?  Yes he was.

“I said no biting.”

“Yeah, Ah know.  I’m not gonna bite ya.  That’s bad.”  His optics were becoming dimmer.  Prowl waited.  Better to know now if Jazz would keep his word and Prowl was confident in his abilities to fend off…what he could only describe as a doofus.

“Then why are you getting closer?”  Jazz’s pedes bumped Prowl’s.

“Ya warm…”

Jazz flopped forwards and Prowl’s arms came around him automatically.

Now he had an admitted energon seeker – and idiot – wrapped around him like an robo-squid.

“Jazz.  What are you doing?”  Prowl wiggled and took a step back, but Jazz came with him.

“Need it,” he mumbled.  “Been out alone too long.”  He nuzzled Prowl’s shoulder.

Okay.  This was odd.

Jazz was chilled against him, but not freezing.  He definitely had a spark. This close Prowl could feel the faint corona of it through his plating.  He shouldn’t be that cold…

Out ‘alone’ too long?

“Who are you supposed to be with?” Prowl asked, trying to sound stern.  Jazz beeped at him like a sparklet and hugged him tighter.  Surely no one would let, well, this, out by itself.

Prowl looked out the window.  The storm was regaining strength.  The walls of the chapel were shaking slightly.

“Carrier ‘n mah twin.  Lost ‘em over the valley when the storm hit.”

Prowl counted back.

“That was four days ago!”

“Yeah, long time.  ‘s cold.”

“Do you know how to locate them?  Where do you live?”

“No?  Ah live wit’ em, that’s where I live,” came the non-answer.

“What is your plan then?”  Prowl wiggled his servo between them and started prying Jazz away from him.  Outside the storm grew louder.

“Plan?  Ah found the chapel ta stay out of the rain.”  Jazz hadn’t caught on yet and was blissfully unaware.

“That is not a plan,” Prowl said as he shoved and popped Jazz off his plating.

“Hey!”

He caught the surprised sparkling and stood him upright.  “We are going to go inside and call my Uncle Magnus and he will help find your carrier. Come on.”

Prowl held Jazz tightly by the upper arm like Kup had showed him and tugged him towards the door.

“Hey – no!  It’s wet out there!  I’ll get cold!”

“You can hold onto me,” Prowl said grimly.  He could put up with Jazz –

Splat!

Great.  Now he had an extra set of limbs to navigate through the storm.

Prowl held onto one of Jazz’s arms to keep it from strangling him and opened the door.

Outside, it was nearly black.  The clouds had thickened and the warm starlight from earlier was gone.

“Let’s go,” Prowl said and pulled.

They found their way mostly by feel.

Jazz whined the whole way and tried to crawl inside Prowl’s plating.

“We’re at the door you – just – hold on!”

Prowl tugged his servo free and pushed the door open.  They stumbled inside and, despite the lashing of the rain starting to turn painful, Prowl wanted to turn around and walk back out.

The dreary brown walls and the imposing busts and statues seemed larger and darker.  Prowl remembered his arrival and his entrance through these doors with perfect, horrible clarity.

There was none of the frantic, weary joy that his old school had been filled with.  Nor the creaky, worn care that has suffused the Enforcer’s station where Uncle Magnus worked.

The chilly cruelness of the teachers and the students had seeped into the walls and floor and he remembered stepping inside, like stepping into a silent methane blizzard.  It hadn’t gotten any better, but Prowl had…maybe he’d gotten tired of fighting against it and trying to keep warm.

“Huh,” came a voice beside his audial.  “This place is gross, mech.  Ah don’t like it.”

Prowl laughed.

“Me-me neither.  Let’s find the comms unit.  This way.”

They were dripping on the floor and Prowl took a vicious glee in tracking as much muck in as possible.

The public communication hub the school boasted was strictly guarded and its use was heavily regulated.  Prowl hadn’t managed to ‘earn’ the privilege of using it yet.

It was located in an alcove close to the main doors to look like it was easily reached, but during the day there was always a teacher or older student watching it.  At night they turned it off completely and set the code.

As if Prowl hadn’t learned to break codes at the pedes of Iacon’s finest hackers – the Archivists.  Primus defend anyone who tried to put a paywall between an Archivist and a rare text.

He stepped up and turned it on.  The quiet beep of the system set up echoed in the little alcove.  A few clicks and Prowl broke through the factory setting password – if he’d known it was this easy…

The keypad lit up and the screen read Ready To Dial Out.

“Move away, I have to dial.”  Prowl shook him off.

“But Ah’m cold, mech!” Jazz whined.

“Give me a klik!”

Prowl typed in their area code and then Uncle Magnus’s number and waited.

Click.

“What has happened,” Uncle Magnus demanded.  “Is Prowl all right?  I am coming down there now and if you have –“

“It’s me!” Prowl interrupted him.  “I’m okay!”

“Prowl?  You are all right?  What happened?”

“I –“

His vocalizer stalled.  It had been so long since he’d heard someone talk to him like this.  So long since he’d heard Uncle Magnus.

“I-“ he tried again.

“Ya need help?” Jazz asked, swinging their servos, unconcerned.

“No.”  He tugged his servo free – when has Jazz taken it? – and continued.

“Uncle Magnus, I need your help.  I…something happened, but I’m okay!  It’s hard to explain….”

“Just start at the beginning and go slowly,” Uncle Magnus urged.

Right.  He could do this.

Prowl took a deep, even vent.

“The-other-sparklings-were-mean-to-me-and-so-I-went-outside-and-I-saw-optics-in-the-chapel-so-I-went-in-and-there’s-an-energon-seeker-here-and-he’s-just-a-sparkling-and-you-have-to-help-me-find-his-carrier-and-his-twin.”

There was a klik of silence.

“Frag.  I had not planned on telling you about all of this so soon.”

Prowl’s mouth dropped open.  Jazz inched closer again and Prowl was too shocked to stop him.  Uncle Magnus had cursed!  Wait…

“You know.  About energon seekers?”

“There is…a second part of my job that we’ve never really discussed.  There are cybertronians that don’t fit with our understanding and when they need help with the law, I am a liaison.  Of sorts.”

“Of sorts,” Prowl repeated, sarcasm edging into his voice now that the panic was ebbing away.  Uncle Magnus would sort everything out.

Jazz snuck closer still and tucked his helm under Prowl’s chin.

“Yes. I am going to drive up to the school and pick you both up.  Go back to the chapel and wait there.  I am putting you in charge, okay?  Take your new friend and hide there.  You are safe as long as you are on sanctified ground.”

Prowl peeled Jazz off and stood up.

“Safe from what?”

“I will explain later.  Go back to the chapel and wait.”

“And you’ll pick us up?  Both of us?”  Prowl cycled his optics furiously – he was not going to cry in front of Jazz!  He was in charge!

“Yes. And if your creators want to interfere again…I have made friends over the vorns with bots who can explain things to them more clearly.  Be safe.  I lo– I look forward to seeing you.”

“Okay.  I love you too.”  Prowl hung up.

“So, we’re going home?  You too?” Jazz asked, servo creeping into Prowl’s.

“Yes.”  Prowl gripped Jazz’s servo hard – and grabbed his arm with his other servo for good measure – and pulled them both back into the rain.

He was going home.

0-0-0

The next morning, being rocked gently as they drove on hidden back roads, curled up with Jazz in Uncle Magnus’s altmode, Prowl felt safe.  He watched the trees pass them by and drifted in and out of recharge.

The strange shapes and shadows outside the window didn’t bother him.  Uncle Magnus had called them friends and that was good enough for Prowl.

So...the other stories will be late.  A little bit of Halloween bleeding into November never hurt anyone, though!