theinverts

[theinverts]

A redraw of a redraw

Lord I love these three numbskulls. They hold a special place in my heart

Underfell sans belongs to @underfell

Underswap belongs to Popcornpr1nce

Undertale belongs to Toby Fox

[theinverts]

Listen I know they missed but in Tem’s defense shooting with nubs is pretty hard

My partner blessed me with this idea and I could not rest until I drew it

I changed underfell Tem’s hair from their hair cannon but I hope it’s still readable as them.

@underfell

[theinverts]

Doodle I made of my UnderTale AU ApocalypticTale

ApocalypticTale Sans (Left)

Random sans (Right)

[theinverts]

I love your art but is your user derived from turn of the century sexology?

I legit had no idea what that was, had to look that up, well the more you know

The user name actually comes from the fact that my partner and I are both introverts. In hindsight we probably should have done some googling before choosing a name.

Man I thought I had a pretty good database of knowledge about outdated sex theories, turns out I have much to learn

[theinverts]

Fem! Engineer

I absolutely love seeing fem engineer designs so I decided to throw my hat in the ring. I honestly couldn’t tell if I liked brown or blonde better on her, soooo let me know your thoughts

I think her name is Delaney (dell for short)

I also like giving fem designs more differences from their og counterparts, so I decided to change the glove design and outfit. I just love giving giving gay little outfits to these homos

Don’t let the goggles fool you, she has the deepest eye bags from all her all-nighters

I’m actually really happy with this drawing, can’t wait to hate it in a few hours

[theinverts]

POV: you wouldn’t let Pyro burn down your house

Back at it again with missfire

I just need more drawings of Miss Pauling being a badass!

Like common she’s sooooo cool!

I love the thought of Pauling being a femme but still really protective of Pyro (but I’ve seen some butch Pauling and it also looks immaculate)

Was feeling down when I first sketched this out but these gays always make me feel better

[theinverts]

‼️RARE PAIR‼️

another favorite rare pair of mine is spoovy! (aka russian roulette)

I know spy is well put together and all of that but I think he’s a bit of a pillow princess

Heavy’s face was giving me so many issues but I think it looks alright now

Also please give me notes on the bed and perspective since this is my first time using that in a finished piece

Gotta love my emotional support old men

[theinverts]

Tf2 doodles because I’m in desperate need of an lobotomy

If you want a consistent art style from me, you might wanna stop dreaming

Fem! Heavy lives in my head rent free and I want her to snap me like a twig

Also missfire is my favorite rare pair, I just love nonbinary lesbians (cause I’m one of ‘em)

I love drawing fem fortress but I always go back and forth on their designs ugghhhh

[theinverts]

I hope this image causes psychic damage

This is a treat for me and no one else

I want this on a god damn shirt

[theinverts]

Be warned, Emesis Blue brain rot is highly contagious

For real tho this SFM made me love Soldier 10x times more than I already do

I just want this man to be happy for god damn it! 【T__T】

[theinverts]

Magnificus is my personal favorite scribe

I’m like 80% perfect sure he’s covered in fur, but I’m open to other headcanons

[theinverts]

My favorite lesbian gets some smooches

Miss Pauling literally deserves the world and I will fight anyone that disagrees

(ง’̀-‘́)ง

[theinverts]

Not a specific sans. Just random doodle

[theinverts]

Just a soupy man in the void

Where is his sexy man competition?

[theinverts]

Candy goat mum

[theinverts]

Horrortale Sans belongs to @/sour-apple-studios

[theinverts]

“Frisk!? Frisk, wait! I can’t keep up!” Flowey called out. He could barely see the child through the snow fall. He wandered aimlessly through the forest, popping up from spot to spot, but the weather didn’t make it easy on him. Finding the strength to burst out of the heavy blanket of frost that engulfed the ground on top of keeping up with a terrified child rendered him almost useless. He couldn’t tell if Frisk just couldn’t hear him, or was just too scared to turnback.

Flowey could feel his stem strain as he desperately tried to stay upright. It had been so long since he had actually left the ruins. As hard as it was to fight in there at least he was sheltered, at least he was warm, at least he could find the strength to keep his eyes open. Wilting. He let the weight of his petals drag him down. He let out a pathetic cough, and saw red.

Wait, when was the last time he bled? He shot up. No, that's not right. He can’t bleed, can he? He looked down at his stem. Bent and malnourished, yes, but no blood. Flowey searched the ground. There was a red drop, and another, and another. A trail. Not the most hopeful of signs, but it’s a start.

They can’t stop running. They won’t stop running. If they stop, they’ll be caught, if they’re caught they have to go back, if they go back then they’ll be alone again.

Frisk slowed down.

But they are alone.

They stopped.

Where is the flower? The little one who promised to guide them. Frisk turned around, but the distance was so blurry. Frisk waded through the thick snowfall. Not here, not there, where? Where was the flower? Where were they for that matter?

Lost. Frisk couldn’t tell where they were, but they knew what they were. Lost. Though the word itself held no meaning for the child, the feeling was all too familiar. They collapsed, the cold ground stinging their already bad wounds, it was too much to process. It was all too much. The adrenalin had left their body, and the pain had swiftly taken its place.

They opened their mouth, but there was nothing. The pain and the heartache was trapped in their vocal cords. Frisk hunched over, dry heaving, pulling at their hair, pushing and straining their dry throat. They wanted something, anything to come out. They wanted to know that there was still something left in them.

No, please, there had to be something.

Frisk shoved their cold, stiff fingers down their gullet, prying their sore throat open. The inner lining of their throat gave way, but nothing was coming out. Slamming their head against the ground, they tossed and turned violently.

Something had to give.