#idw sunder

[grey-nine]

my art as of rescent

and a thing i made for a social justice journal assignment. guess what topic i chose ↓

and then the blood gods came and kicked me in the balls so i gave sentinel crime my cramps. he's NOT being brave about it cuz HE'S A LITTLE BITCH

i also used it to cover up an ugly ass drawing i did of the blokees prowl figure cuz i was NOT letting that thing live on the first page of my sketch book nuh uh

[rotten-3y3s]

Some transformers doodles + art of my girlfriends dnd character

[warmtoastieer]

Sunder Headshot !!

I think he is very very freaky ! 😼😼😼

[naughty-nephi]

“I’m sure this character won’t awaken any kinks in Me”

The Character in question:

[peacethroughpassionyt]

IDW Sunder Rap

It's not my usual style, but I decided to go for a more aggressive rap over a poem because it matches Sunder's personality better. I had this sitting around for a while before finally deciding to share it, so it might not be as good as some of my current works.

[phoenixisobsessed]

Sunder anon here, sorry about that! Didn't see the (2). Sunder and Froid for #23 then :)

AAAHHAHAHAHA (Original post: PINNED)

Nah again, totally my bad on that one.

Now that we have that out of the way…who was going to tell me that there is a CHARACTER IN TRANSFORMERS who is a PARODY OF FUCKING SIGMUND FREUD???? If I have to hear his name ever again from my teachers y’all better have the coffins ready. I don’t know if it’s just me but in about 5 or more of my subjects in school, we’ve had about Freud. LIKE SHIT UP ABOUT ID EGO AND SUPEREGO, AND THOSE STUPID INCEST-BORDERING THEORIES I AM TIRED. But all of that aside, I want Froid so bad omggshdghsd who stole his waist?!?! His arms are so long for what.

Quite happy with this one! Pulls back Sunder’s helm foreskin :3 (I’m not sorry about that one)

[seraphim-seeker]

You ever just look at a particular set Transformers Characters that you like and go

“THIS. THIS IS GENDER”

[anony-man]

Chubformers drabble #97!

Characters: Sunder (& Froid - IDW)

Word count: 812

(TW: implied vore)

Sight was the key to filling his belly with the food that truly satisfied him, but after a while, Sunder had begun to feel no need for seeing to feast. There were other ways to go about fulfilling his desires, and he was hellbent on finding them.

The high of the chase was addicting, and the glorious sensation of squirming bots and writhing victims clawing at his belly from the inside made it all the sweeter. Sunder was on permanent leave from both mnemosurgery and his favorite pastime, it seemed, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find ways around the promises he’d made.

Dying bots cared little for what happened in the end, he’d begun to discover. Keeping Froid company with idle chatter was enough to allow his processor to wander, to probe, and to infiltrate, and Sunder found more often than not that there were plenty of willing participants. A yearning for death wasn’t something one could easily erase, and it was up to him to erase all his past wrongs and sins by giving those grieving bots an easy way out.

It was easy to do, and it broke none of the strict code that nosy doctor inflicted on him. For Sunder’s end of the deal, he promised no more killing sprees and no more threats against unwilling victims—this was plenty for Froid, to his glee, and even more satisfactory with the loss of the mnemosurgeon’s optics.

No optics meant no setting his sights on poor, fearful prey, and that was the deal. What wasn’t part of the deal was allowing his processor to wander and connect with those desperate enough to come straight to him. They practically fell into his wide open, gaping maws every time, and Sunder had grown to enjoy the indulgence more than the rush of pleasure from screaming mechs.

For a while, Froid was none the wiser of those miserable bots creeping through windows and tiptoeing their way around corners to Sunder’s lair. The mnemosurgeon sat perched atop his berth and listened for the sound of the door’s squeals before patting his belly and beckoning with a servo and a wide grin. They had nothing to be afraid of, not anymore. It was a win-win for everyone.

Sunder supposed the problem had come up when his frequent visits to the doctor’s room were put off in favor of lounging in his berth and obsessing over the feel of his swollen, stuffed belly. It was hard to keep the nightly sound of squeaky floors and creaking doors to a minimum when his visitors were so eager for relief, and Sunder didn’t much care to conceal the reasons behind his recent absences as of late.

After a while, he just… well, he stopped caring, he supposed. It was hard to care what Froid might think or do when he was near-constantly stuffed to the brim with warm bodies and eager prey.

“Sunder,” Froid had finally said one morning, dropping into the mnemosurgeon’s private quarters for an unexpected visit. “I’m starting to worry. Are you sure there is nothing going on that I should be aware of?”

It was hard to answer that with a straight face. Sunder was practically drowning in ecstasy and contentment, his processor a haze of feel-good thoughts from all the bots who’d come and gone. Their happiness at an escape and joy for the release was starting to affect him in more ways than one.

The massive belly of excess fat and rolls of mesh that hung over his lap was no longer the only sign that something was amiss, that was for sure.

“Mmm… yes,” he said, drawing out his words as he picked his teeth with one of the insignias hanging from his neck. “Why? Feeling lonely, are you? I could fix that…”

While he spoke as though airy words and sing-song tone had little effect, Sunder could still hear the flustered stutter in the doctor’s voice. His smile grew comically at the scuffle of pedes and the clink of those ridiculously long arms crossing over Froid’s chest as he stumbled over a reasonable response.

“I—just… tell me you haven’t broken our contract,” he said—practically begged, really. “I’m serious, Sunder. If you’ve gone back to hunting Autobots down, then—“

“Please,” Sunder cut in, lifting the servo that rubbed gentle circles into the swell of his belly to pause Froid’s frantic speech. “You know me, Froid. I would do nothing of the sort.”

And he hadn’t… not really, that is. The agreement remained intact as it was, and Sunder was proving to be a fabulous patient. He could hear Froid’s huffy vents and allowed himself a snicker of his own, his servo settling back down to stroke his belly.

He was, by far, a most reliable mech—for both Froid and for his compliant and willing prey.

[mx-jester]

I made a little comic about an interaction I had with my mom.

she somehow knew what the all spark was??? But doesn't know about half the weird stuff... thank god

[idlepollingofcybertron]

SUNDER PROPAGANDA

Vote Sunder.

[shrimpscream]

Hihi

Alternate versions:

[sunders-holding-chamber]

@decepticonjusticedivisonrevival

nickel kicked me out and tarn wants me dead. Can I stay with you? You can eat my memories of the DJD I don’t care anymore.

-moth

I heard I caused some chaos regarding Knockout... Why did Nickel kick you out?

[rotten-3y3s]

More transformers doodles + oc doodles!

[horror-s1mp]

Ok but, like why tarn, sunder, overlord and deathsaurus kida hot??

[emperor-kumquat]

This is a really great TFA Sunder animation! Spot on and wonderfully creepy. I think there was some TF Mercy influence in there at the end with the exact same tongue design as Mercy Sunder being used. And how the eyes turn to pricks, the teeth become sharp and jagged, and the jaw might be extending at the end. But the tongue with the exact shape, pattern, and colour... seems the most telling. My version of Sunder has been in videos and across social media for years, so I think at some point, I may have been an inspiration. But I really really wish some credit had been given because I do believe this took elements from the TFP Mercy Sunder design.

Artwork here are from volunteers and commissioned artists for the project, from @captian-nemesis @elaiz @hiddenasalways and Livio Ramondelli (TFcon comm)

TFA villain of the week: Sunder

don't ask. i did this in a sleepless 4 days

[revelboo]

Please, please, please, may I have another snack of Sunder? I beg!

Snack time!

For the bots anyway. 18+ scenarios. Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Knockout and Breakdown, Sunder, Brainstorm, Krok, and Swerve snippets

Sunder

• “Just a kiss. One kiss, little love.” Not on his life. Watching the hungry way his head turns to track you as you straddle his thighs and walk your fingertips up his plating to make his hips lift and nearly dump you off the berth. Venting dramatically, he wiggles against his chain. “I wouldn’t bite. Not you.” Definitely lying and you play with the seams at the inside of his thighs while you wait him out. Because he’d absolutely bite if you were dumb enough to try to get anywhere near those nasty denta. “You’re so cruel to me.” There’s a wicked glint in his optics, though.

• Giving in as you just stare at him, he frees his spike and tucks his chin to watch you wrap a hand around him and lean forward to slide the flat of your tongue against him before you’re shifting to rock yourself against him. Teasing him. Torturing him as he growls hungrily. Because you never actually take him in that wet mouth, only taunt him with it. That’s going to be the first thing he does when he gets free. Wants you on your knees, mouth wrapped around his spike. Might even do that before he feeds. Optics hungrily watching you reach to grip him and guide him to you, he growls. And as soon as you sink down on his spike, he rolls his hips, moving as much as his chains will allow and hearing them jangle as you ride him. Too distracted with the feel of his spike stretching you to bother keeping him out and he eagerly dives into your mind, tearing into your memories and feeding as you take his spike.

Krok

• Back hitting the wall, you hear the click of Krok’s mask retracting then his mouth is on yours, demanding and almost overwhelming. One big hand cupping the side of your face, servos flexing slightly and then his glossa is sliding against the seam of your lips, delving inside. His urgency letting you know the mission didn’t go as planned. Because normally he makes love like rain falling over you, soft and unhurried. He’s upset right now, his touch almost bruising as his other hand pushes at the hem of your pants. Needing inside you. And you don’t hesitate, shimmying out of your clothes.

• Gripping your hips, he lifts you up higher and you hook your legs around him. Making him struggle to free his spike and line up with you. Can feel you laugh when you break away from his mouth and he chases after you. Finding your wet heat and driving up. Riding into you in urgent thrusts as he pins you more firmly against the wall. Reassuring himself that everything’s okay after the fear and anxiety of a mission gone sideways. Needing you to ground him, calm him as he frags you like his life depends on it. You moan and he claims your mouth again, hips snapping against yours. Everything right.

Knockout and Breakdown

• “Not so rough. You’ll break the human,” Knockout says, servos tunneling into your hair where you’re sprawled on top of him, his spike trapped against your soft belly as you rub against him with every rough thrust from Breakdown. The other con snarling as he ruts against you, spike stroking deep to coax those little noises from you. Feels your lips brush his chin as Breakdown stares down at him, fragging you. Breakdown’s servos interlacing with those of his free hand as his thrusts become more urgent and you squirm where you’re trapped between them.

• Whimpering as Knockout uses a servo to tip your face up and his mouth slides against yours, Breakdown’s denta find your shoulder and bite down, the little lick of pain tipping you over the edge. Hear Breakdown groan, thrusts faltering before he’s burying himself deep, releasing inside you. And Knockout’s mouth slides lazily against yours when Breakdown slips free, hooking an arm around you and Knockout both and rolling so you’re still trapped between them as they lay on their sides facing each other over the top of your head. It had taken some getting used to both of them and their dynamic. You throw your head back against Breakdown when Knockout guides your leg up over his hip and then he’s driving his spike inside you.

• Driving his own hips against you to rock his still semi-hard spike against soft skin, Breakdown drapes a possessive arm over you and Knockout to rest on your leg as Knockout moves inside you. Loves watching Knockout frag, the way he loses himself in it and the wet sound of you taking his spike. Hadn’t wanted anything to do with you at first, but you’d convinced him on your knees and Knockout enjoys playing with you. Their little toy.

Brainstorm

• “Not yet, not until I say you can,” he groans, thrusts faltering somewhat, spike pulsing inside you as you try to buck against him. Teasing himself just as much as you as his servos tighten on your hips to keep you still. Venting against sweat-slick skin where he’s kneeling behind you feeling you clench on his spike. “Ask nicely,” he growls, pulling nearly all the way out just to slowly drive deep again. And you swear at him, at his ego. Startling a laugh from him, because it’s not ego if he’s right.

• “Please,” you hears yourself saying, managing to avoid adding that he’s being an egotistical jerk right now. And he begins to move against you, thrusting deep as he pulls you back to meet every drive of his hips. Feeling that thick spike stretching you as he begins to move faster until he’s losing his composure and control. Growling as he claims you as his.

Swerve

• “Don’t stop, please for the love of Primus, don’t stop,” he groans, servos tightening on your hips like he thinks you’re going to bail if he doesn’t keep a grip on you. Straddling him, you brace your palms on his chassis and ride his spike. Eyes hooded as he babbles and growls, hips lifting and rocking under you. Nearly knocking you off balance more than once. And he’s as needy as the very first time every time, lips parted watching you like he can’t believe you’re real.

• Watches you toss your head back, making those little noises as you bounce on him, taking his spike deep. Claiming him as yours. Sliding a hand up your soft side, he waits for those eyes to open and find him. Holding his stare as he rolls his hips to make you gasp. “Swerve,” you moan, his name a plea and a protest. Tempting him to lift his hips, encouraging you to move faster because he’s so close.