This Is Already A Fic Idea But I Want To See More So, Idw Megatron In The Early Days Getting Slutted

This is already a fic idea but I want to see more so, idw Megatron in the early days getting slutted out to raise funds for the deception cause, and then he becomes a spikeslut <3

Class inequality and poverty-influenced prostitution are huge turn-offs for me. But you've really made me think. What if young Megatron considered it? Maybe not for The Cause™ (I imagine it happening before The Cause™ was even fully formulated), but for his underground activism (not mining though, lol), for publishing his early works? I'm already writing and it's getting disgustingly long. I'll post it separately later, just know it's gonna be hella vanilla, but Megatron will be there.

Astrotrain x blitzwing?

And they were roommates... These two give a strong vibe of Those Two Dudes always hanging together in the most bromantic fashion. It's inevitable for them to share a hab that they proclaim a separate state with the ridiculous name Autocratic Republic of Triple Changers (unrecognized). But this is no party with your best buddy, they're constantly running low on energon (I'm thinking about it being somewhere on the timeline before Dark Cybertron, but let their standard of living be a tiny bit better). No money no funney. And Blitzwing is salivating over this false valve toy he ran into surfing the online market. The description says it's the original model, not taken out of some poor fellow who hit the bottom so hard they decided to sell their treasure. Intuitive adaptation with EM-field sensitivity, vibration and literally everything that his hand doesn't have. Blitzwing even considers consolidating his and Astrotrain's pittance so they can share it then. That's what friends are for, right? But it's late at night, Blitzwing is rechargeless with datapad in hand. The tab with the product page open. Being broke sucks. Being horny too. At least Astrotrain is peacefully recharging, and it shouldn't take long. It's not too quick though. Blitzwing has to tease his spike with feather lights strokes for it to leak enough lubricant, his eyes locked on the screen. The damn toy is even designed to resemble a valve with two purple exterior nodes. A loud in-vent gets him startled a little. Astrotrain is watching him with his fingers between his thighs. It's probably too dark for him to see with his bad eyesight but he's somehow enjoying the view. "A little help, buddy?" is both a request and an offer. No need to ask twice, Blitzwing is on top of him the next second. Fuck all the "dude-bro" bullshit, they're too broke for it. Astrotrain's valve looks... somehow familiar, two purple nodes flickering invitingly, but Blitzwing is long past caring. It feels so good he HAS to cum in a few thrusts. And he does, shivering, when it's contracting in pre-overload and vibrating so strong he howls. Original model. Sure it is.

Honestly, my hate for Tailgate is just nothing compared with my mind-numbing, wall-crushing, ground-shaking, church-burning, child-eating loathing towards MTMTE Megatron. Hating fictional characters is not my style, so I wasn't prepared for how this abomination of Marty Sue-ing ALL my favorite tropes will make me want him off dead, so I can get back to my weird space opera without it being focused on his crocodile tears and lame "second chances" bullshit.

I'm cool with IDW's dark and detailed take on him, even MTMTE sometimes made sense (for ex, I really love the issue with the LL's crew visiting the Necroworld and Megs facing the reflexion of his atrocities, even though it's questionably romanticized). If done better, there was a chance I would love Megs' portrayal. 

But god, it was so awful, it's just outrageous. And you know what pisses me the worst? This dirty bastard is sexy as hell, I don't know what to do with my hate-boner, which in this case HAS something to do with an actual boner. (And I still see the effort in his characterization, and I'm a sucker for effort.)

I'm still up for some sorts of sexy content with him. Not any, it's a matter of perspective, timeline, and utilized tropes. 

(There should be a term for getting off hypocritically.)

I was thinking about Whirl cuckolding Tailgate by getting it on with Cyclonus, but since I hate Tailgate it feels best for me to just take it as a starting point that Cygate just didn't work as a relationship. (Un)fortunately, it just happens. So it could be a cure for a broken heart that Whirl's proposing. Just a good casual, buddy-on-buddy fuck. What an excuse for him to shove his long ridged spike in the sad old goth. His goose neck is just made for him to stretch and twist it to peak on what's going on down there. Cyclonus makes quite a picture with his red optics flashing dimly, his plating bristling with the intensity of Whirl spiking him. Whirl may start some smug line, something about a hole being able to take more damage than a fragile spark, but Cyclonus quickly shuts him up by clawing on his frame and thrusting his hips upward HARD. Bonus if Cyclonus squirts, which has not happened for a long time, probably since Galvatron last layed his touch on him.

Just as I promised: Horny Amicas Rodimus and Drift.

There's nothing new: Drift is a firm believer in the sanctity of Amica Endura. So, yes hugging, yes kissing, but Primus forbid he desecrates his and Rodimus' blessed friendship.

They should be fine with it. Drift has Ratchet as his Conjunx, and Rodimus is free to hook up with anyone or also find a long-term partner. Though it's not easy to focus on finding one when his sexy spiritual friend is around again. And they're working on rebuilding their bond: training, talking, cuddling.

More than once, Drift's found them both heating up and laughing it off. Yeah, it happened before, but after what happened to their bond, it feels different. More deep, more sharp. Drift feels it in his friend's aura emanations, his chakras pulsing with affection and desire. But they just can't. Not because of Ratchet. Ratchet, along with his "too old for this shit, just have fun" attitude, is fine with Drift sleeping with other people. He'd be happier if Drift stopped blueballing his Amica. Just for the sake of tossing all this obsolete religious nonsense off. 

But again, Drift can't. Even when he has Rodimus under him again after their training session, that turned into showering together, then into helping each other with paintjob, then just cuddling. Rodimus tried to start a lazy tickle-fight, but Drift soothed him with a gentle kiss.

And there they are. Both revved up and pressed into each other. Rodimus' soft chuckles sounding more like needy sighs, and all his internal systems rumbling. "We're not interfacing. Should we stop?" Drift asks, concerned. 

"No, we aren't. Just stay". They're making out again, Drift feels them both tensing more and more. Maybe Primus was wrong once when he created his Amica so tempting. Speaking of... Sweet Primus, how hard Drift will ride Ratchet after this. If he makes it now, what's becoming more and more unlikely.

Rodimus is shaking now, kissing his neck. When his panel snaps, Drift doesn't stop him. He catches Rodimus' own hand, guiding it between them. They're not interfacing. It's still not, even with Rodimus' spike dripping with pinkish slick between them. And with Drift's uncovered valve massaged with his own fingers. 

They're not touching each other more than they used to. Rodimus tries not to overstep and not soil his dear Amica with his fluids. He's not prepared when said Amica stands up, kneeling over him in overload, and gushes of lubricant are hitting Rodimus' plating only to make him spill harder into his own fist. 

Hell yeah, it's over and they're good. They didn't interface.

At least until Drift tells Ratchet. Who says that, from the standpoint of modern medicine, they interfaced. And Drift is a dumbass, but it's fine.

Anon's ask about Megatron's sluttification passed through the prism of my brain and turned into something much sweeter. Let's look back into Megs' miner days, when his views and values were still in the process of being forged (so unlike himself, sorry, I just can't). Pre-war miners' lovemaking.

It's Terminus with whom Megatron shares his first attempts at writing. Miners are deprived of the luxury of having time to sit together to look through what Megatron has to share, so Terminus usually reads it whenever possible and then provides his review. It's simple and straightforward, no sophisticated shit for pampered intellectuals.

That's how Terminus finds a note, saying, "By radically renouncing and refusing to understand the mechanisms of our oppression, we put ourselves at risk of being detached from the reality of our custody. Instead of indulging ourselves in blind radicalism, we should analyze: what makes the system work? Functionism defines us through our bodies, because it's our bodies that make profit in this system. So, instead of rejecting our bodies, like some reject their alt-modes, we should make our bodies work for us. Our frames are not holy temples of Primus, they are our workshops in which we forge and shape our freedom."

The next page is much more rough, just a quick note about prostitution being stigmatized to deny the lower class any additional ways to gain wealth. The text itself is fine, but the subtext feels suspicious to Terminus. Is his Megatron really…

So he asks Megatron himself when they meet in their shared hab later. Megatron calmly tells about his decision to raise funds by making use of his body, which is a far cry from what is commonly viewed as appealing. But there are bots who're looking for manual workers. Even some freaks from high-ranking castes get wet from the perspective of a strong lower-classed scum fucking them. That's what they want. Perverts.

"Load of scrap," Terminus frowns. "You're wasting your words."

He hates telling Megatron this, but the kid is really confused now. He just has to help him reexamine this shit, so he starts with a kiss. Maybe Terminus is not as good with his words as Megatron (honestly, very few are), but he's good with his hands. Miners' bodies are not very sensitive, but he knows where to touch: wrists, hips near the codpiece. And Megatron's head equipment makes a perfect erogenous zone when free from his helmet.

Terminus is licking these trembling petals, careful not to bite. The effect it has on Megatron is impossible to ignore: mouth slightly open in soft gasps, both parts of his array ready and wet. Kneeling, Terminus pushes his legs apart, and Megatron moans in anticipation. Maybe Terminus is not as good with his word, but damn, how good he is with his tongue, licking Megatron's spike and valve. Like he's starving and Megatron is leaking pure energon, if hunger could also explain hot, tender kisses. 

Miners' equipment is most basic, plain, and unadorned, with a meager amount of nodes, but Terminus is eager and relentless when it comes to making Megatron shudder and ready to discharge, but now he's not letting him.

"Your body is a holy temple." Terminus is looking straight into Megatron's flickering eyes. "And you won't let anyone use it disrespectfully. Say it!" The command is added with a quick lick on the valve rim, making the rings inside clench. 

"Say it! And I will overload you."

And, head thrown back and voice cracking with beeps and static, Megatron utters the words. The next second this wonderful tongue is on him again, pushing mercilessly inside, fulfilling the promise. Megatron is holding onto the wall behind him, a stream from his valve hitting Terminus in the face, an unbelievingly blissful moment before it's drunk down. His spike shooting upwards, only for it to land on Terminus' helm and a bit on his back. 

Terminus doesn't mind, as long as his message is understood. 

And if you're looking for the very beginning of Megatron's radicalization, that is it.