“It's always the Dark Energon that's a deal breaker....”

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“It's always the Dark Energon that's a deal breaker....”
// So. Would anyone like some Megatron-Starscream-Knock Out bath water—
To kill, or merely castrate. An impossible choice.
A low groan can be heard from one of the lower decks of the Nemesis. Around a corner—secluded in a rarely used corridor—a large mass of spikes and sharp edges can be found, curled in on itself as pain of unknown origin wracks through delicate internals.
Expect little movement from him today—at least until he can bear to stand.
He's putting in orders; who needs a new Deceptibrand?
He could have sworn there had been blankets on his berth the last time he used it...
“Hypocrite.”
Oh, to sink his teeth into a set of wings again, feeling the plating give way under his bite and taste the fresh tang of energon filling his mouth... And then kiss over every crescent mark he leaves, worshipful and claiming in the same instant.