Sans AU One-Shots

Ink || emotionless.

Pairing: Ink Sans x Reader
Prompt: You're dealing with the side effects of a new mental illness drug, and you find you're acting a little too much like emotionless Ink. But is it better to deal with your mental issues head on or be like the soulless skeleton with no emotions at all? (This idea was really random, but then when aren't my ideas off the wall?)
Type: a nothing one-shot that acknowledges the reality of mental illness and the drugs designed to treat disorders, hopeful ending
Length: 2.7k words
Background: You're described as mentally ill - hence the reason you're on the meds in the first place - but it's kept purposely vague since we're all messed up differently lol.
Notes: This was mostly just used as a warm-up for writing Ink in my Dream story, so any criticism for how I portray him is appreciated! He's a bastard (/affectionate), and while he's not exactly an upstanding character, I don't think I would be either in his situation. Regardless this is kinda a nothing one-shot, but hopefully it gives you a better grasp of how I see his character. His nonexistent heart's in the right place (mostly), even if he goes about it the wrong way.

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Emotions were complicated, and sometimes they created more problems than they solved. Take anger for example: the explosive emotion was likely to get people hurt or you in trouble, and while it had its uses, most of the time you would be better off not feeling it at all. Sadness was another one, along with anxiety, that made life more complicated - especially when they were taken to the extremes like depression and anxiety disorders. You wished to have your emotional problems erased, so when you were offered the chance to take part in a clinical study of a new antipsychotic medication, you took it. It was meant to treat any and all mental illnesses - from Bipolar Disorder to Major Depressive Disorder to PTSD to Generalized Anxiety Disorder - or any other form of mania or emotional imbalance. And it worked. The emotional downer flatlined your mood swings so you couldn't get those dreaded emotional spikes you hated so much.

What you didn't expect was to hate it so much.

Currently you were in the Doodle Sphere with Ink, and while he was drawing away on some new inspired piece that he hadn't looked away from for hours, you just stared down at your empty piece of paper blankly. The funny thing about emotions: you found that without them, you were empty. The drugs worked wonderfully at fixing your issue/s, but at the cost of depriving you of any emotions at all. Granted you felt emotions still - you weren't as emotionless as Ink could get when he stopped taking his paints - but right now in particular was bad. You felt like a robot, completely detached from emotions and feelings and all the parts of you that made you human. Of course nobody liked mental illness - that's why you were on this new drug to begin with - but at the cost of not feeling at all, was it worth it?

"Something wrong?" Ink's voice broke your thoughts, and you looked up at him blankly. He had a couple pencils in his teeth, each with varying degrees of lead grade, and his head was tilted to the side as his eyelights reflected his curiosity. He was lying on his stomach beside you with a piece of paper in front of him tilted so you couldn't see it.

You sighed. "Nothing." Even your tone was blank and empty, and if you were actually able to feel, that would bother you. But you couldn't find it in you to care. Ink glanced down at your empty notebook page, frowning as he chewed on the pencils in his teeth.

"You need some creativity, (Y/n)," he mumbled. You needed a lot more than that, but he wasn't wrong. It was hard to feel inspired when you couldn't scrounge up a singular emotion to feel. But unfortunately you couldn't make yourself feel anything, no matter how hard you tried.

Getting an idea, you pointed to his bandolier with the vials of paints strapped to it - his liquid emotions. "Can I try whatever 'inspiration' is?" you asked. He plucked the pencils from his teeth to slide them back into his pockets - where they would inexplicably vanish, as he was always borrowing yours due to losing his own.