Guess who's back? ;)

After reading back through my fanfictions (and noticing how it has been two years since I last updated, oh boy.) I feel like I owe it to you all to attempt once again at writing fanfictions. Plus, I rather missed updating these bad boys. Mainly I left to focus on developing my artwork more (note: I was a beginning sophmore in high school when I first started out on here. Now I am 19 and about ready to begin my first year of Art college come August) and feel now that I have enough inspiration and motivation to balance both this and art-ing in my spare time.

So spread the word, Inspire165 is back and up and running.

I cannot guarantee how often I will update, but I will update nonetheless.

If you wish to see what I have been up to the past two years, visit my art blog: draw-the-line dot tumblr dot com.

It's good to be back. :)


"Slag it to the pit!"

Arcee snarled through clenched denture plates as the Autobot medic pried a singed shoulder plate from her pink frame. She turned to glare at the medic but not before his set of prongs made contact with the back of her helm.

"Watch your language! We have youngling's present-" He indicated towards Skids and Mudflap—both currently engaged in a small-scale fist fight despite the rather irritated Bumblebee sitting between them. It took them about a klick to realize that they were being insulted by the medic.

"Hey!" They both countered, causing the majority of humans and bots occupying the tight space that made up the cargo hold to snicker. Ratchet smirked as he continued to repair the impatient femme.

After the Autobot's encounter with Sideways and Demolisher, Ratchet was able to perform minimal repairs on the three femmes before N.E.S.T began immediate transport from Shanghai to their area of operation. The rest of the mechs received only minimal damage and could wait until they reached the base for more extensive treatments. Due to the femmes smaller frames, it was necessary that they receive immediate attention. Only when the N.E.S.T operative cargo plane was safely off of the ground did Ratchet continue their procedures. He occupied a corner of the cargo hold; leaving enough room for the remaining Autobot and human brigade to unintentionally surround the medical examination table.

Arcee continued to discharge curse words as Ratchet began to weld on the repaired shoulder plate. Next to the examination table sat the remaining sisters; Chromia, who having already finished her repairs, took to glaring threateningly at the twins for having snickered at the point in time her chest plates were being removed. Moonracer, having yet to be tended to by the Autobot medic, took to Arcee—speaking quietly next to her audio sensors and occasionally patting her hand during her procedure. From across the cargo hold sat an amused Sideswipe, currently finding enjoyment in watching his femme counterpart receive her repairs.

"Hey Hatchet, while you're at it I think her facial plates could stand to be replaced-"

"Get recycled Sideswipe!" Arcee snapped. Her left optic twitched as a click reverberated from her arm servos.

"Your shoulder appendage has been altered to fit the newly repaired armor plate. By the Allspark if you are to damage it again." Ratchet warned, waving her off the examination table. He turned to glare across the N.E.S.T carrier at the silver mech, waving a pair of sharp prongs in his direction. "I'll be sure to remember you calling me 'Hatchet' during your examination Sideswipe!" Sideswipe only smirked in response.

Arcee rolled her optics, gladly stepping down from her least favorite metal slab. She rotated her shoulder servos as she took a seat between Jolt and Chromia. Unlike that of her sister, a composed Moonracer sat next to the medical examination table, patiently awaiting her repairs. She thoughtlessly circled a digit around a weld burn on the base of her palm. She looked up towards a certain Autobot medic clearing his throat.

"May I continue with your examination?" Ratchet indicated towards the metal table. Moonracer nodded, rising to accompany the medic only to have him clasp her injured palm. Her optics darted from her hand to his matching blue optics, currently occupied with examining the burn to notice her gaze.

"Luckily the burn is only second degree. If it had been third degree I would have had to replace your entire hand appendage." Ratchet stated. He picked up a scouring pad and began to gently rub at the weld burn. It was when he looked up to see a surprised Moonracer did he clear his throat and hand her the pad.

"Continue to rub that out while I tend to your other injuries-" He mumbled, rotating around to search through his tools. She looked down with imperceptible disappointment—at least what was considered imperceptible to the rest of the Autobot mechs. To the two femmes sitting closest to her this action was nothing but noticeable.

"Dim spark." Arcee murmured to her blue sibling. Chromia only nodded her face void of emotion as she looked towards the medic bot. Arcee's audio sensors crackled as her comlink came online.

"You've just now come to that conclusion?" She glared across the cargo hold to Sideswipe—hand to his connected comlink. He raised a brow plate cockily in her direction. Jolt couldn't help but snicker at Sideswipe's gesture only to flinch back as the pink femme threatened to fry his servos. Ironhide, much to his regret, occupied the spot next to the silver mech. Facial plates set in a permanent scowl; he rotated the barrels of his cannons in annoyance.

"It would seem that we have more younglings present Ratchet." He stated coolly. Promptly, he turned to cuff Sideswipe's helm as he barely mumbled an audible 'Glitch' from his vocal processors. A satisfied Arcee turned to face Chromia observing the Weapons Specialist.

"Are you alright sister?"

Optics reduced to slits, Chromia rotated to once again face the metal interior that made up the cargo hold, disregarding her sister's inquiry.

An important clearing of the throat had all helms turned towards the important figure seated next to Ironhide (spare the twins, Bumblebee having to forcibly hold their heads in place.)

"My fellow comrades," Optimus Prime began, "As you are all aware, we were successful in the stopping of two Decepticon threats occupying Shanghai, China. Because of your combined efforts, there were minimal injuries and even less casualties." A brief smile washed upon the face of the Autobot leader before settling back into its usual neutral emotion. "But there is still an item of concern that needs to be addressed—" All Autobots blinked there optics attentively.

"Upon mine and Ironhide's encounter with Demolisher, the constructicon managed to issue a warning moments before his spark was offlined—" Optimus' optics briefly dimmed as the decepticon's dying words filled the cramped cargo area.

"The Fallen shall rise again." The audio file rasped. The cargo hold fell silent once more. Optimus' optics brightened to its original blue hue. "That was the only information clear enough to record."

"The Fallen…as in Megatron?" Jolt statically questioned. All optics was on Optimus.

"However unlikely that scenario, it is an option that cannot be ignored."

All those occupying the cargo hold exchanged glances as the new information took an impact. Moonracer, still sitting on the medical examination table, looked towards her sisters. Arcee gazed upon the face of her purple sibling with a brief look of concern before settling into its usual rebellious form. Chromia only stared with hatred towards the floor. Unlike the rest of his counterparts, the Autobot medic only scoffed.

"An unlikely scenario indeed—" He mumbled, wiping access energon from Moonracer's wounds. From across the cargo hold, a certain weapons specialist grunted.

"Agreed. What is another possible scenario?"

"Man, da only otha thang that had fallen is the Decepticons when we kicked there sorry asses back to Cybertron." Skids butted in, his orange sibling nodding enthusiastically in agreement. Ironhide glared maliciously towards the twins, but acknowledged their response.

"Exactly." Ironhide looked back at Optimus, his optics dilated, lost in thought.

"Indeed, another possible scenario, but I feel as though what Demolisher might have been referring to is something beyond our comprehension, something long since lost to our generation—" The Autobot leader looked up to ten sets of perplexed optics. Optimus straightened his massive frame.

"For the time being, it is best we focus on more important matters—" He glanced with concern towards Moonracer's wounds, "we shall revisit this discussion at a later time." The rest of the Autobots nodded, raising their hand digits to their helms in a respectful salute. Ratchet lowered his hand, rotating around to once again reach for his energon stained prongs. He pointed them in Sideswipe's direction.

"Best surrender yourself now, because your next up for repairs."


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