Reblogged from cruelfeline
I’m trying not to think about Starscream trying to operate on himself.
I’m trying to fall back upon the thought that this is a children’s show, and thus they will give him his T-cog back without messing with details regarding how he gets it into his body.
I’m REALLY trying not to think of him sitting alone in a dark, silent, ancient laboratory, positioning a trembling scalpel blade over the thinnest part of his thoracic armor, trying to steady himself enough to make that first incision.
Glancing over at the scavenged T-cog, swallowing, recalling the feeling of air rushing past his wings, the freedom of flight, to steel himself for the trauma of cutting himself open.
Squeezing his eyes shut, screen fading to black, and then the screaming, the choking, the gasping…
Somehow I can’t feel bad for writing fanfics/rps like this. 8D”
