Sans softly grumbled to himself as he pushed his front door open and slammed it behind him, hopping down the steps to walk down the dirt path away from the house. He didn't know where his slippered feet were leading him, but he didn't care, so long as they took him away from that house that sheltered a particular annoying skeleton.
Considering how strong a bond the two had, Sans and Papyrus seemed to never get into any arguments or fights. Sure, they'd be annoyed at one another, but they'd quickly shake it off. Be that as it may, they were still brothers, and at one point or another siblings will fight. Papyrus' constant nagging and nitpicking over every little thing he did rubbed Sans the wrong way, and though he could understand his younger brother was just nervous about his new job at Grillby's new restaurant on the surface, he still didn't appreciate being scolded for every little thing he did.
"'Sans, you're not supposed to eat eggs with a spoon, that's what forks are for,'" Sans crudely mimicked Papyrus' previous words from that morning under his breath, balling his hands into fists in his jacket pockets. "'Sans, everybody knows you always put your shirt on before your pants.' 'Sans, how many times must I tell you to pick up after yourself? What were you, raised in a barn?' Yeah, why doesn't he tell me how he really feels..."
Too busy mumbling and growling, the small skeleton didn't even notice the change of scenery from bright and grassy to dusky and damp. He had wandered into a forest.
"Papyrus thinks he knows everything just 'cuz he's got a job now," Sans growled. "Just 'cuz he's taller and smells better and looks cooler."
The tall trees began to grow larger in numbers as he trudged deeper into the forest, unaware how much darker and harder to see in front of him the world around him was becoming.
"Just wait until I get myself a job," the small skeleton rambled on, beginning to loosen up small rocks from the soft dirt and kick them short distances away from him. "Then I'll be the one telling my brother - my younger brother - what to do. That sure'd be a nice change of pa-aaaaieee!"
Sans' attention was rudely snapped back to reality as he felt the ground underneath him disappear, making way for a cliffside. It was too late to scuffle the ledge to keep from tumbling over, and he ended up plummeting down deeper into the forest. SOUL pulsing wildly with fear, knowing his crash landing could very well send him exploding in a cloud of dust, Sans fought to tap into his magic to teleport himself to safety in one of the treetops.
Before he could reach for his magic, however, something soft and springy gently cushioned him to a slow stop before he could reach the forest floor. Sans wrapped all four limbs around the object like a koala clinging to its mother's back, panting heavily and struggling to calm his vigorous trembling. Once his bearings were collected, he dared to peek open a once tightly-shut socket to see what had saved him. It was a large, thick green vine.
Exhaustion washing over him suddenly, Sans vocalized his relief with a heavy sigh, falling limp on the vine and letting his arms and legs dangle at the sides. Once his SOUL's pulsing slowed to its normal tempo, he began to slowly sit up, finding his arms to still be trembly from the near-death experience. He softly patted the plant with a hand, as if thanking it for saving him, and began looking for a safe route back to the ground.
Then the vine shifted.
Sans' sockets widened and his breathing hitched at the sudden movement underneath him. Did the vine just... move? He stared down at the vine for a long while, waiting to feel it move again. Yet it didn't. Figuring he just imagined it considering his previous experience, he shrugged it off and continued looking for a way down.
That's when the vine began to move again. The skeleton didn't even have a chance to cry out as the vine coiled up over him, rolling him up like a burrito. It held Sans upwards, and he pushed and shoved against the thick plant with his hands and arms as his legs kicked and dangled underneath.
More movement caught Sans' attention, and he watched with growing horror as more vines that he didn't even notice was there before began to shift and wiggle to life, drawing closer and closer to him.
"What the hell kind of forest is this?" Sans cried out in panic, his struggling becoming much more frantic. He began to whimper as the vines slithered inches closer to him until they were practically on top of him, and at once they froze, falling completely still.
The skeleton blinked in confusion, his breathing still heavy from fear. Two vines slowly slithered back to life and they lowered themselves to Sans' legs. They coiled themselves around his slippers and slowly slid them off with ease, letting them go and letting them fall until they couldn't be seen anymore in the darkness.
"H-Hey, those were my favorite slippers! Scratch that, those were my only slippers!" Sans shouted at the out-of-control plants. He grunted as he struggled harder to pull himself out of the thickest vine's hold and kicked around his legs, and he gasped once he felt the vines wrap themselves around his ankles. They pulled taut, securing his legs, and no matter how hard he tugged he couldn't move them again. "What are you doing? Let go of me!"
Two more vines crept down to his legs, and Sans groaned softly, afraid to know what they were planning to do. The thick vine wrapped around his torso blocked out his view, and he couldn't see the wiggling sprigs on the ends of the vines or his struggling legs underneath him, and not seeing what was going to happen next was doing a great deal on his paranoia.
At long last the burning question of what they were going to do was answered, and Sans did not like the answer. He jolted with a strained squeak as he felt soft petite sprigs wiggle themselves against his soles. "H-Hehey! What are you- nnngh! N-No!"
The soft tickling only increased in speed, and over time more and more little sprigs joined in the fun. It almost felt as if Sans had stepped in a nest of busy insects.
"No! No, wahait! Hehehehaha! No tickling! Nohoho!" Sans' struggling grew much more frantic and desperate, one hand cupped over his mouth as he tried to suppress his giggles. He yelped loudly as the squirming vines started to crawl up his foot towards his toes. "Nohohoho, not the toes! Get awahahahay from my tohoes!"
His pleas fell on deaf ears - or rather no ears at all if one's to be literal - and the vines finally breached his wiggling toes. Sans threw back his head and dug his fingers into the thick plant wrapped around him as an anguished howl tore from him. "AAAAAAAHAHAHAHA! OH, NOHOHO! NOT THE TOHOHOES! PLEHEHEHEASE!"
The poor skeleton wiggled and curled his toes, trying to dance them away from the agonizingly light torture. He let out a shrill whine as the sprigs coiled around each toe, using soft but firm strength to hold them still and even splay them out, allowing more little vines to squirm between them.
Sans hunched over, cackling harshly into the thick vine as he abused the greenery with fierce pounds of his fists. His legs and feet twitched and trembled with the massive, desperate effort to move them, but the vines were too strong; he just couldn't move a muscle - metaphorically speaking - and that fact alone was maddening as he was forced to endure anything the merciless vines had to offer.
"BAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO! OH, PLEASE NOHOHO! I CAN'T TAHAHAKE IT, PLEHEHEHAHAHAHAAAA!"
Minutes of intense toe tickling slowly passed, feeling like hours for the poor helpless monster, until finally the vines decided to up their ante. Another pair slithered up to his lower body and wormed their way under his jacket and undershirt, wiggling around until they found their next target: his spine. They began to gently scratch and poke at the defenseless vertebrae, treating it like it was a fragile piece of china.
Sans' laughter somehow became much louder and harsher than before, and he began to sling his upper torso around, desperate to squeeze his way out of the thickest vine's hold. He knew the attempt would be futile, but he tried reaching past the vine to the smaller ones to swat them away from his spine. As expected, he couldn't reach them over the large plant, and so he surrendered to fruitless pounds of his fists and tosses of his head.
"WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! OH, GAHAHAHAHA-! STAHAHAHAP IT!" Sans wailed in anguish, tears beading up in his tightly-shut sockets. "NO MOHOHOHORE! I CAN'T TAKE ANYMOHOHORE! OH, PLEHEHEHEASE!"
To Sans' dismay, the tickling only got worse. Two more vines made their way to his legs and began to rather leisurely stroke slowly against the pits of his knees, occasionally giving the patellas themselves firm jostles and squeezes to stir up tingles that radiated throughout his entire legs.
"HOLY SHI-AAAHAHAHAHAHA! OH, NO, OH, PLEHEHEHEASE! NOT THERE, NOT THEHEHEHERE!" Poor Sans was thrashing and flopping around like a fish out of water, the tears gathering up at the corners of his sockets finally breaking free and trickling down his cheeks to gather up at his jaw and drop down on the vine. The thick green plant quivered a little as it absorbed the teardrop, almost as if it craved the liquid, and Sans could've sworn the tickling paces slightly increased. "NO! NO, NO, NOHOHOHAHAHAHA! NO, PLEASE STAHAHAHAP IT! PLEHEHEHEEEEEASE!"
The torture lasted for what Sans assumed was hours upon hours. The vines showed absolutely no mercy on the poor little monster, not letting up even a little on his feet, toes, knees, or spine. The more tickling they endured, the more sensitive to the treatment they became, and it only made Sans all the more desperate to escape. If only he had eaten his eggs with a fork instead of a spoon, perhaps he could've avoided this whole dilemma!
The tickling never stopped, not once; the vines didn't even slow down. They only seemed to speed up and multiply. Sans felt himself slowly growing insane to the intense constant tickling, unable to escape the plant life's wrath. He thrashed and flailed and pounded and squirmed; begged and pleaded and cried and hollered; squealed and guffawed and shrieked and cachinnated... But the vines just would not stop! And once two more scratched and wiggled along his hip bones, he felt something in him snap.
Sockets wide and delirious, trembly pinpricks of light staring off into nothingness, Sans' already impossibly wide grin grew even wider to make room for the top-of-his-lungs screams and wails of utter desperation and hysteria that tumbled out uncontrollably. His entire body was trembling so much his bones rattled, and his roaring laughter echoed off into the forest.
"NAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE! SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! HEHEHELP ME! GET ME OUTTA HEHEHEHERE, PLEASE, SOMEBODYHEHEHEHEEEEE!"
He desperately prayed for somebody - anybody - to hear him and come rescue him. Please! Somebody help him! Somebody help him!
But nobody came.
The intense torture dragged on and on, and each teardrop that fell on the largest vine was absorbed and turned into energy used to tickle even faster and harsher. In a matter of minutes, Sans was laughing too hard to so much as utter the beginning of a plea, and a few more minutes after that he was having trouble making any noises at all. His grin was still as helplessly wide, but no sounds came from the hysterical skeleton save for a few tiny squeaks and wheezes. It was a picture of pure ticklish agony.
At long last he was too exhausted to struggle anymore, and he fell completely limp in the vine's hold, arms dangling over the edge of the plant and head rested to one side. Tears poured down his cheeks like waterfalls now, further sensitizing his bones to the point where each tear that slid down tickled nearly as badly as the vines themselves. He completely gave up trying to fight and instead accepted his fate, surrendering to the unbearable torture as it dragged on and on. His lower torso wasn't even trembling anymore in the effort to kick his legs or wiggle his toes.
A pair of vines slid down the back of Sans' hoodie to wiggle and snake through his upper ribs, a place he would be quick to block with a quick retract of his arms, but he couldn't even do that at this point. Knowing an intensely ticklish spot he could easily shoo away was completely vulnerable because of fatigue rather than bonds was more than he could bear, and the only noise he could squeeze out was a tiny, barely audible squeak of anguish.
Stars pricked the edges of Sans' vision and his head began to swim. Even though he was a skeleton with no lungs, breathing was still an essential part of his development, which meant if he didn't get enough air circulation going through his system he could very well pass out. And that's just what was about to happen. Only when he slipped into unconsciousness did the tickling finally stop... for now.
Sans softly groaned as consciousness finally flooded back to him, and he slowly fluttered open his sockets. Only to be met with darkness. He began to breathe a bit heavier as he tried looking around, but his head wouldn't turn. He soon recognized a soft pressure wrapped around his skull draping over his sockets. A vine had blindfolded him and held his head in place.
He was still in the forest at the mercy of the monstrous vines.
"Oh, please no!" Sans wailed in horror, struggling against his bonds. He could make out vines wrapped tightly against his wrists and ankles, holding him in an eagle-spread position. The soft cushioned weight of his hoodie was gone, and he guess it was removed and tossed to the forest floor alongside his slippers while he was unconscious. He couldn't tell if he was right-side up, upside down, or horizontal. But what he could tell was that his feet had not only been coated in some sort of sticky substance that irritably slid and dripped down his soles, but they had also been detached from his legs.
Contrary to popular belief, Sans can in fact remove his own bones without it taking a toll on his HP so long as it's done gently and with the utmost care. He can't move said bones once they're separated, but he can still feel. This was very bad news.
"Hey! Give me my feet back!" Sans shouted. "And what'd you put on them anyway?"
He found his answer quickly at the sound of excited squeaks and chirps. He pinpointed the sound to be coming from a tree not too far from him, and by the sound of it the chittering belonged to some sort of forest animals, most likely squirrels. He could also hear the faintest buzz in the distance - the sound of bees busily hovering and zipping.
Sans knew what was on his feet now. It was honey.
"Oh, no! No, no! No, you can't do this! Please don't do this to me!" Sans pleaded, fear for the inevitable shooting through his body and giving him the strength to once again struggle. "Please don't do this! I won't be able to take it! Please!"
The worst part about blindfolds, official or makeshift, is the victim never knows when or where the tormentor will tickle. It always seems to increase sensitivity, and considering the ordeal he's already been through he knew his bones were just going to become even more unbearably sensitive.
He felt the vines subtly shift as they moved his feet, and he knew they were placed on a tree branch by the feeling of bark on the bridges of his feet.
Immediately he felt the quick breath from two tiny noses sniff the honey, and he grunted and scrunched up his face to hold back an anticipatory smile. He was absolutely desperate to curl his toes, but they just lay there motionless as did the rest of his detached feet.
"P-Please..." Sans made one last attempt to beg for mercy, his voice barely a soft squeak. As feared, the plea was ignored.
It didn't take long for two tiny tongues to begin poking and licking at the honey. They were so quick and efficient with each little lap against his insteps, and Sans did everything in his power to hold back his laughter. But good gracious, it tickled so bad!
"Nnngh! Hhhhhnn... P-Pleeeease...!" Sans whimpered. His grin grew wide and trembly and he tugged against the vines pinning his limbs in place. He wanted so badly - too badly - to wiggle his feet and toes away, yet the makeshift bony platters stayed absolutely still for the rodents to enjoy their meal undisturbed.
Sans didn't know how much time had passed since the agonizingly light torture began, but he knew if it continued like this he was not going to be able to take it. Just when he thought he would burst, the squirrels stopped licking. The little skeleton let out a puff of air, relieved to finally have a break, but it didn't last long. Soon the little tongues resumed their mission to lick up all the honey from his soles, starting where they left off at his heels and soles.
Sans grunted and huffed as he twisted around as much as he could in the vines, finding it harder to withstand breaking into hysterics. Perhaps if the vines could see he wasn't going to react so easily anymore to any tickling, they'd let him go! He just had to hold off until the squirrels finished eating. It can't be too much longer, right?
His sockets widened and he let out a gasp of shock as something intruded under his shirt. The vines had begun to wiggle and scratch and stroke along and in between his ribs. Completely unprepared for this, Sans finally broke into unstoppable giggles and squeaks.
"EEEEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA! N-NO FAHAHAHAIR! PLEHEHEASE NOT THE RIHIHIHIBS! THOSE'RE TOO TIHIHICKLISH! C'MOHOHOHON!"
Now that the dam was broken, Sans allowed himself to surrender to the ginger tickles his feet received from the little rodents, but ultimately it was the rib tickling that had him laughing as hard as he was. It was only until the tiny tongues began licking away at his honey-coated toes that he squealed, the torment now divided between the two spots.
"OH, NOHOHOHO! YOUR TONGUES TIHIHICKLE TOO MUCH! PLEHEHEHEASE STOP! LEAVE MY TOES ALOHOHONE!" Sans shrieked, tossing and turning in midair, the denial of him wiggling and curling his toes away absolutely maddening. It only got worse as the squirrels poked their tongues between his toes, and his squeals grew louder and higher-pitched. "YAAAAIIIIIEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE! NOHOHOHOHAHAHAHA! NOT THEHEHERE! STAHAHAHAHAP!"
At long last, after what felt like yet another hour, the licking had finally ceased and his feet and toes were licked clean. At the same time, the vines stopped scratching and squirming against his ribs, and Sans was finally granted the chance to catch his breath, small giggles sounding at the tail ends of each puff of breath.
"P-Please... tell me... you're done..." Sans whined breathlessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to take much more tickling of any kind. However, the feeling of cool, sticky honey re-coating his feet sent a jolt of dread through him, and he burst into thrashes again as he cried out in anguish, "Oh, no, please not again! Anything but this, please!"
Once the honey was reapplied, the squirrels wasted no time sending their tongues to work, only this time they started to lightly nibble his soles and heels as well. There was no way Sans was able to contain his laughter during this round; his poor feet were much too sensitive for that at this point. He arched his back with an ear-piercing squeal.
"GYAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HOHOHOHOLY SHIHI-AAAAHAHAHAHA! NO NIHIHIBBLING! NO NIBBLING! NOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHA!"
The vines also resumed their torturous techniques on his ribs, and goodness did Sans shriek. Every part of his body - save for his feet of course - was squirming and trembling and tugging desperately as the poor skeleton cachinnated. The vine around his eyes easily soaked up the tears spilling from his tightly-shut sockets, giving the plant life more energy to tickle away with gusto.
Minutes dragged on as Sans laughed uncontrollably. Over time, more and more vines began to tickle his knees, spine, hips, and underarms, and once the squirrels licked up the honey for a second time, even more of the sticky sweet was applied only to his toes. The vegetation must have somehow learned the little phalanges were the sweetest spots on his feet, and this only made Sans' fear grow.
"PLAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE! NO MOHOHOHORE!" the little skeleton bellowed in anguish. Every last ticklish spot on his body was being taken advantage of in the worst ways, and it was driving him up the wall. He could barely think at this point. All he knew of was the presence of the gargalesis engulfing him, and that pleading would hopefully make the living nightmare end.
That's when he remembered how he got into this predicament in the first place. He had left the house to cool down after an argument with Papyrus, and now he was here a few hours later. Papyrus had to be looking for him at this very minutes, his just had to!
"PAPYRUUUUUUS!" Sans screamed at the top of his non-existent lungs as he called out for his little brother. "PAPYRUS, HEHEHEHEHELP! HELP ME, PLEHEHEHEASE! PAPYHYHYHYRUUUS!"
He hoped and prayed for the sound of frantic footsteps or the sound of bone slashing through vine or a call of, "I'M COMING, BROTHER!", but there was none. Papyrus must have absolutely no idea Sans was here, and until he or someone else comes looking for him deep in this forest he was not going to be rescued.
"OH, NO, PLEHEHEHEASE!" the skeleton wailed loudly, a hopeless sob wracking through him and causing him to intensely quiver. "PLEHEHEHEASE! SOMEONE HAS TO HEHEHEHELP MEEEE!"
After several more minutes - or was it hours? - the tickling finally stopped once again, all the vines withdrawing from the broken skeleton. He wheezed shakily as he trembled vigorously in the bonds, tears refusing to stop falling, and he struggled not to start sobbing. The tickling may have ceased for now, but it was going to start again really soon, and no one was coming for him.
He squeaked in alarm as vines gently coiled around his feet and lifted them back up and away from the squirrels. He fell limply in the vines' hold, weak with relief, knowing no more honey was to be applied and no more tongues or teeth were to be poking or gnawing against his soles and toes.
What the vines did next made him really wish the squirrels had continued.
The little sprigs at the tips of the vines gently yet firmly wrapped around each phalange, and soon enough both detached feet were dangling by the toes. The sprigs started to wiggle and worm between his immobile toes, and at the same time the thin vegetation holding them started to wiggle his toes around, stirring up extra sensitivity.
Sans' back arched again and he howled with laughter. He twisted and turned in his bonds, his fingers doing everything his toes were denied as they curled, clenched, splayed, and wiggled.
"YAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! CHAOTIC COSMOS ABOVE! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT THAT, NOT THAT, NAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE STOP TIHIHIHICKLING MY TOES! PLEHEHEHEHEASE, PLEASE, PLEEEEEEASE!"
At the very least Sans could be thankful that no additional tickling was added to the rest of his body, though in the end he wished it did just so his focus didn't have to lay solely on his toes. The sprigs started twisting and drilling between his toes and poking and stroking along the lengths of the phalanges as larger vines scratched under them, and all while they were wiggled around and squeezed. He had never felt this much desperation to escape any scenario of any kind before.
"FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-! AAAAAHAHAHAHA! MEHEHEHERCY, PLEASE! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! I'LL DO AHAHAHANYTHING TO MAKE THIS STAHAHAHAHAAAAP! AHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE!"
His prayers must have been answered, for the toe tickling ceased at long last. Sans quickly sucked in a large amount of air, only to choke on it, coughing and sputtering. Deciding to carefully take in slow, deep breaths instead, he was miraculously granted the freedom to rest until his breathing became almost normal again.
The vines around him began to shift, and the large one blinding him was removed. Despite the forest around him already being dim by the canopy blocking out the sunlight, it was still much brighter in comparison to pitch blackness he'd seen for nearly an hour, and he had to blink and squint his sockets until they adjusted to the new lighting. Suddenly, the two vines holding his wrists let go, and he let out a scream of terror as he immediately swung into an upside-down position.
"St-Stars, don't do that!" he shouted, gripping his shirt over his rapidly pulsing SOUL. "You nearly gave me a SOUL attack!"
As expected at this point, the skeleton was ignored. He gulped as his shirt began to ride up his torso - or rather down considering the position he was in. He gripped the hem and tried to pull it back over his ribs, but the vines once again secured themselves around his wrists and held them tautly over his head. Without any support, the shirt fell back down and draped over his head, once again blinding him. He let out a soft moan of defeat.
He tensed up and his breath hitched as he felt a lone vine tip rest against his exposed spine. He felt it begin to slowly glide itself down his vertebrae, twisting itself gently between each groove on the way down.
Sans tugged on his arms' restraints as he giggled helplessly, hands balling into fists. "Ehehehehe! Wh-What are you doing nohohow?! Hehehe!"
The vine continued to work its way down his spine until it reached his ribs. It retreated, but only for a few moments, and it then began to slowly coil itself around his left lowermost rib bone.
"EEEK! N-Nohohohoho! Not the ribs again!" Sans squeaked, tugging even harder against the vines. This time around he felt the tickling method took a much softer and lighter approach, treating his rib bone like a delicate flower - which, in its own way, made the tickling even worse than before. With rapid, rough tickling he felt the ticklish sensations more intensely, sure, but he couldn't feel every last little detail down to the softest scratch and slowest glide. On top of that, the knismesis left him unable to properly vent with harsh squeals or guffaws, allowing him to softly giggle at best and unable to squeeze out even a squeak at worse. It was utterly torturous. "P-Pleeeease! D-Don't d-do this t' mehehe!"
The vine continued to softly curl and wiggle against the rib until finally it moved on the right lowermost rib, repeating the same process.
"E-Eeeeee...! G-Gosh, this is tortuuuhure! I-I can't handle this, pleeease!" The little skeleton tossed his head around as he snickered and whined. For once he actually wanted to laugh in this duration of the torture, but of course his body didn't deem the tickling strong enough to allow even that. Pent-up giggles bottled up within the poor monster, but he could only expel them one little squeak at a time. "N-No more! Eeehehe! St-Stop iiit!"
Slowly but surely, the vine worked its way down the rib cage, softly swirling and coiling around each one for several minutes before moving on to the next. As his fourth row of ribs were abused, Sans had no choice but to shout and holler to replace the giggles that just would not come out. It barely did anything for the monster, but at least it was some kind of venting.
"STOOOP! P-PLEEEASE! NYAAAAHAHA! EEEE! OH, STARS, IT'S SO BAD!" Sans complained, unable to stop his torso from trembling under the soft treatment of the plant life. "HNNGEEEEHE! NO! PLEASE! Q-QUIT TEASING MEEEEE!"
The teasing continued on for who knows how long until his uppermost three rows of ribs were finally reached. As the vine wiggled gently along them, Sans felt the strong urge to laugh intensify within him. Apparently the vine had found the most sensitive ribs that Sans himself didn't even know he had until now.
"NYAAAAAA! AAAAAHA! NOOOO! STOP IT! OH, GOSH, IT TIIIIIICKLES! PLEASE HAVE MERCYYYYHYHY!"
All of a sudden, the tickling halted, but the vine didn't pull away from the right uppermost rib. Sans began to breathe heavily in anticipation, anxiously awaiting its next move. Five more vines joined in to tickle each sensitive rib, the speed and intensity going up so rapidly the skeleton didn't have time to register what the heck just happened for the first few seconds. His sockets widened and his grin helplessly stretched wide as a silent squeal escaped, and his entire body fell limp in ticklish paralysis. His mind quickly registered the sudden intense sensations, and he broke into massive thrashing and tugging as he was finally granted the ability to verbally vent his ticklish stress.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH, GOSH, NO, PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! OH, PLEASE, OH, PLEASE, AHAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAP, IT TICKLES TOO MUHUHUHUCH!" Sans wailed with hysteria, sockets tightly clenching shut once again as tears streamed down his skull to drip down into the dark green abyss below. "PLEHEHEHEHEASE! JUST LEMME GOHOHOHOHO! I DON'T WANNA BE TIHIHIHICKLED ANYMORE! EHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The vines retreated once again after several agonizingly long minutes of endless torture, and Sans falls limp once more in their grasp, wheezing desperately for air. He barely even had the strength to struggle anymore and he felt so tired he was sure a whole year's worth of sleep wouldn't restore his energy.
"P-Please, I c-can't take anymore!..." Sans babbled breathlessly, the words tumbling out as quickly as they could between gasps for air. "J-Just lemme go... I n-need mercy..."
As he feared, the torture was not yet over. He heard the vines shift around up above, but he was too tired to keep his eyes open to see what was happening. Moments later, the same cool and sticky substance was felt trickling down his rib cage. Panic restored a bit of his adrenaline and he tried once again to struggle against the bonds as he watched the vines smother his bones with a light coat of honey. "Oh, dear mother of Gerson, not again!"
Once the sickeningly sweet substance was applied, the skeleton was righted back into a horizontal position and the vines began to quiver and tremble violently above him. Sans' sockets narrowed in confusion as the shaking went on for a few moments longer, until he saw little specks of black beginning to fall from the canopy. They landed on his honey-coated ribs, and with a jolt of panic he realized they were bugs. Ants, beetles, centipedes, and spiders rained from the treetops and blanketed his golden chest in various shades of gray.
"Holy shit!" Sans cried out, his yanking on his arms and legs growing more desperate. "Get them off! Get them off me!" Though he didn't have as big a fear of bugs as Alphys or Papyrus, they still freaked him out a lot, especially if he saw them crawling on him - the entire reason why he no longer takes naps outside in fields of grass or trees.
It didn't take long at all for the little creatures to begin skittering across his ribs as they feasted upon the honey. The light coating of the golden sweet wasn't thick enough to protect him from their tickly legs.
"YAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! OH, NOHOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHA!" Sans tossed his head back and shrieked with laughter, his entire body trembling. The soft poking of each bug's six to thirty legs stirred up the lingering tingles reminiscent from the previous sessions and it was driving him insane! "I CAN'T TAHAHAHAHAKE THIS ANYMORE! I CAHAHAHAN'T! LET ME GOHOHOHOHOOOOO!"
As the bugs continued on with their feast, the vines once again returned to his feet, making a routine of spreading out his toes to tickle all over them with little sprigs as thicker vines glided up and down his taut soles.
"NOOOOOOO! NO MOHOHOHOHORE! LEAVE MY FEET ALOHOHOHONE, PLEEEEEASE!" Sans wailed, tugging weakly against his legs. His strength was coming really close to failing him once again, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he lost his strength completely just as he had the last time. He couldn't bear the thought of passing out only to wake back up in a new position, the merciless plant life having a new tickle method up their sleeves to torture him with. If this kept up, he was going to be in this God-forsaken forest forever!
Sans let out a high-pitched howl of utter hopelessness.
"Sans!"
A call of his name, barely audible over his own cachinnation, caught Sans' attention. Like wildfire hope and emotion flushed through his body as he let out another hysterical shriek. He hoped and prayed it wasn't just his imagination. "SOMEBODY SAHAHAHAHAHAHAVE MEEEEE!"
"Sans! We'll save you!"
It wasn't his imagination after all! Someone had finally come to his rescue! The little skeleton sobbed through his harsh laughter in unbearable relief.
With a swoosh of wind, a flurry of magical blue spears and white bones shot up from the darkness and slashed through the vines one by one, letting them fall limp and lifeless as they plummeted back down. The vines trapping his arms snapped free and he swung down loosely by the restraints on his ankles. His SOUL pulsed in fear and he screamed. Most of the bugs lost their grip and flew off the skeleton, the remaining ones who managed to keep their grip skittering around rapidly in panic, causing him to squeal and giggle.
One final spear shot up from the darkness and cut through the last of the vines holding Sans up, and he began to plummet down. His scream caught in his throat and he became light-headed with dread, everything seeming to slow down around him. He had finally been granted mercy, but it was all for naught as he fell to his death.
His SOUL pinged blue and his descent was abruptly halted, causing him to gasp loudly. As he gently floated down his willed for his SOUL to stop pulsing so rapidly and his bones to stop quivering and rattling.
His SOUL returned to normal and he began to fall again. A terrorized shriek tore from him before he fell right into someone's arms.
"Sans! Are you okay?"
Sans recognized that voice. His sockets flew open, and he found himself staring right up at Papyrus, his face darkened with worry.
The emotions instantly broke free. Sans' sockets began to water and he began to whimper. He was finally saved. His baby brother whom he should never have gotten angry at in the first place came to his rescue. He wrapped his arms tightly around Papyrus' neck and sobbed loudly over his shoulder.
"P-Papyrus! Thank you, thank you!" he wailed, his fingers wringed through his brother's red scarf. "I'm so, so sorry! I never shoulda gotten mad at ya! Thank you for saving me!"
"Sans, don't be sorry," Papyrus chided affectionately as he rubbed Sans' back. "You're allowed to have and show your emotions, just as I am. I'm just so sorry about what happened to you. You were gone for at least two hours and I was getting worried. You weren't at Grillby's, Toriel's, or the local planetarium, so I came looking for you. I heard you shrieking deep in the forest and I knew you were in trouble, so I just had to come rescue you."
A wave of embarrassment rushed through him before it was washed away. Frankly, he didn't care who heard him at the moment - there was plenty of time to do that afterwards. All that mattered was he was safe. A thought crossed his mind and he looked up at Papyrus. "H-How did you kn-know where I was?"
"He told me you were missing," a familiar voice rang up; Sans recognized it to belong to Undyne, "so I got Dogamy and Dogaressa here to help me track you down."
"It was easy to find you, you smelled like ketchup," Dogamy barked.
"Are you okay, dear?" Dogaressa fretted.
Sans' trembling finally began to slow down and his breathing evened as he nodded. "Y-Yeah. Now I am. Thanks a lot, you guys. I really owe ya one." He wrapped his arms around Papyrus again and gave him a little squeeze.
"Think nothing of it, dear brother," Papyrus grinned. "Your well-being is reward enough for the Great Papyrus. Now let's get you home." He bent down to pick up the lightly dirtied slippers and jacket and cradled Sans in his arms as he and his fellow former Royal Guard sentries and captain made their way out of the forest. "By the way, what was even going on up there? And why are your bones so sticky?"
Sans lightly winced and averted his gaze. "Uh... That's not important, bro. What is important is how, uh, heh, tickled pink I am that you're here."