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OH!! and—i lowkey forgot to send this to you cause i’ve been busy all week BUUUUT

have a lee!wemmbu fic… heh…

ooooo

The door to Flame’s base slams shut behind them with a heavy thud that seems louder than it should be, like it’s sealing them into a pressure chamber before the real chaos begins.

Outside, everything feels imminent. As if the air itself is waiting to explode.

Inside, it’s cramped and cluttered, low ceilings and stacked chests lining the walls, the faint smell of wood and iron lingering in the air.

He would’ve preferred fighting just Flame to get it all over with… but nooo. Stupid law had to get involved and make things even MORE complicated than it should be. It’s whatever now though.

Once they’ve settled in the base, Wemmbu doesn’t hesitate. He moves immediately — armor clanking in uneven metallic bursts as he strips off damaged pieces and replaces them with fresh ones in quick, almost impatient motions, like if he slows down even for a second the nerves buzzing under his skin might finally catch up to him.

He checks durability twice. Counts arrows and rockets under his breath. Lines up potions with almost surgical precision. Every movement is tight, controlled down to the smallest adjustment, like he’s physically holding himself together through sheer force of will.

Flame notices all of it. The way Wemmbu’s shoulders never fully drop, the way his hands move just a little too fast, the way he exhales through his nose like he’s bracing for something that hasn’t even started yet.

“So… you planning on fighting,” Flame says after a moment, voice edged with amusement, “or are you trying to snap your spine in half before we even leave?”

Wemmbu doesn’t look at him. “I’m fine.” Yeah no, that was way too quick of a response.

He watches as the other pushes himself off the wall. “Oh really now? You look like someone wound you up and forgot to loosen the string.”

His eyes immediately snapped toward his rival, the look he gave so intense it could’ve burned a hole through the wall. “Drop it.”

“Oh,” Flame replies lightly, stepping closer, “I don’t think I will.”

Trying his best to dismiss the ignorant guy, Wemmbu shifts to the next chest.

Unfortunately for him, Flame follows.

When he reaches past him, his fingers trail lightly along Wemmbu’s ribs in an unhurried glide that feels far too intentional to be accidental, only curling around the arrows at the very last second as if that had been his goal all along.

Wemmbu stiffens immediately, his entire frame locking up in a way that makes the reaction impossible to miss, like someone just flipped a switch under his skin.

Flame hums. “Relax bro.”

“I am relaxed.”

Flame steps closer. He reaches up as if adjusting the strap on Wemmbu’s shoulder—fingers pressing, sliding downward slightly.

This time, there’s no more pretending. No excuse of reaching for gear, no convenient distraction to hide behind. Just the deliberate press of fingers testing the reaction he already knows he’ll get.

Wemmbu jerks away. “Don’t.” Flame tilts his head.

“Don’t what? Fix your gear? You’re welcome.” The smirk spread across his face ruins any innocence he tried to give off.

Wemmbu tries to move around him. Blocked. He switches directions. Blocked again.

“You’re wasting time,” Wemmbu snaps.

“Bro– You’re wasting energy being this tense,” His rival counters smoothly. Almost like he anticipated the other saying that. And then—

Two fingers pressed firmly into Wemmbu’s side.

Wemmbu jolts as if a spark shot straight through him, his breath catching sharply in his throat before he can clamp it down, the reaction faster than his pride can keep up with.

Flame’s eyes sharpen. “Oh?”

“…Don’t start.”

“Start what?” Flame asks, already knowing the answer.

Wemmbu tries to shove past him.

Flame lets him take one step,

then squeezes lightly at his side as he passes.

A startled laugh escapes before Wemmbu can swallow it down.

The sound hangs in the air longer than either of them expects, echoing faintly in the small base and making the moment feel heavier than it should.

Flame’s grin spreads slowly, unmistakably smug, like he’s just uncovered a hidden weakness and is already calculating exactly how to exploit it.

“Well,” he murmurs. “That’s useful.”

Wemmbu backs away. To his dismay, Flame closes the distance at an unhurried pace, steps measured and almost lazy, like he knows there’s no real escape and is in no rush to prove it.

At that, he scoffs. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re ticklish.” Wemmbu’s shoulders went rigid in response. Despite Flame noticing, he declined to speak up on the fact.

“I am—noHOT-hng!“

Flame closes the gap before he can retreat and respond any further. His hands land at Wemmbu’s sides — quick, controlled squeezes followed by lighter, faster movements that force an immediate reaction.

“WHAha!-“ Wemmbu gasps and twists sharply away, laughter breaking free in uneven bursts despite the way he’s clearly trying to clamp down on it, his composure cracking at the edges no matter how hard he fights to hold it together.

“You absolutely are,” Flame states teasingly. Wemmbu grabs a potion bottle and points it at him.

“Tahahake.. one more step.” To his annoyance, Flame in fact does take another step closer.

A laugh. Not a genuine one. One that always irritated Wemmbu during their little disputes. “What are you going to do? Splash me?”

Instead of chucking the bottle straight at the blindfolded man’s face—which is what he should’ve done, Wemmbu lunges right at him. Flame swiftly pivots, catching his wrist and spinning him slightly off balance.

Before Wemmbu can recover—

Flame’s hands find his ribs again, giving him short, rapid squeezes. “FlahAHAame!—“

“See?” The dark-haired murmurs, far too pleased with himself. “That’s already better. You sound way less like you’re about to implode.”

Somehow, Wemmbu manages to break free and bolts across the base. Flame gets stunned by this action, but quickly regains focus once again and goes straight into the pursuit.

“Go- away!” As the cat and mouse game continued, Wemmbu got even more nervous. They weave around stacked chests in a messy, breathless chase, nearly colliding with a crafting table hard enough to tip it before a careless elbow sends a stack of arrows scattering across the floor in a sharp clatter.

Wemmbu ducks, dodges, and evades all possible attempts of catching him and getting… he didn’t wanna explain the rest. But unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Flame swiftly catches the back of his shirt and pulls him back.

Letting out a chuckle of satisfaction, the way he held the purple man was comparable to that of a dangling kitten. “Hah, Predictable.”

“Shut up, bro!” Wemmbu attempts a vault over a chest. Which, obviously failed. He blames it on the overwhelming person distracting his mind from focusing.

Flame grabs him mid-motion, pulling him down with a firm grip around his waist.

The sudden contact throws Wemmbu off balance just long enough for the control to shift completely, his attempt at escape unraveling the second Flame tightens his hold. “This is quite unfortunate for you. Ha...”

“Shush—Shut it!” Flame hooks an arm around him to keep him from slipping away and goes straight back to his sides — alternating quick squeezes with lighter, relentless movements that keep Wemmbu twisting without ever quite breaking free.“WahaAHAhit! Flahahame!”

Laughter spills out again—it was breathless, unguarded. The base fills with chaotic movement and muffled, soft laughter, the earlier tension dissolving into something reckless and alive.

“Yes Wemmbu?” With a smug smile, he feigns innocence to the shrieking victim in his grasp.

“NahaHAHAha! S-stohohop!!” FlameFrags chuckled as a response, but he could really care less what the guy found so funny in that moment. In panic of now being caught, Wemmbu makes an attempt at a desperate flip.

It almost works. Almost.

Flame anticipates it and sidesteps, catching him as he lands off-balance and pinning him lightly against the wall. “Bro- Why would i wanna stop? I’d say you look pretty happy to be in this predicament right now.”

He doesn’t hesitate in getting right back to torturing the other. He exploits every reaction like he’s logging data.

And he’s grinning the entire time without any remorse whatsoever. But for some reason, Wemmbu could’ve sworn he saw a glint of fondness in his eyes? He’s probably just seeing things. “Well… you seem a lot better already, don’t you think?”

Eventually, the resistance slows into weaker, half-hearted attempts to push him away, the fight draining out of the struggle as laughter leaves Wemmbu breathless and unsteady.

Flame feels that tiredness. And for once, he stops first. His hands still,

then drop. It wasn’t over, but a break would probably be best… for now.

He watched the slow rise and fall of Wemmbu’s chest—sucking in as much air as possible, but it was still a pretty slow process. After a while, the mace user hesitantly cracked one eye open before snapping it shut.

Why the hell was that guy looking at him. And why was it so embarrassing to be studied like some sort of… undiscovered species.

Wemmbu’s mind went from scrambled and overflowing with different thoughts to being completely cut off by a calculated jab in his ribs.

“Hngh!- I thought you were done!?”Flame didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying the way Wemmbu was still catching his breath, the faint flush lingering across his face, the way his fingers twitched like he wasn’t sure whether to shove him or brace himself.

“Done?” he repeated softly, thumb pressing idly against the fabric at his side as if considering it.

Wemmbu narrows his eyes, suspicious. “Yes, done. As in finished. Over. Completed. Ring a bell?”

Flame hums quietly, pondering his options. “I don’t remember saying that.”

Wemmbu’s stomach drops half a second before it happens. Flame’s grin widens slowly with a hint of amusement in his smile.

And before Wemmbu can even fully inhale…

Both hands dart back to his sides in one swift, practiced motion. The expected reaction is immediate.“FLAHAHAME—!”

His back arches off the wall, laughter bursting out again in sharp, helpless waves as Flame’s fingers dig in just enough to make the threat real—not overwhelming, just relentless.

“Bro, you really thought I was finished?” Flame murmurs near his ear, smugness practically dripping from every word. “You should know me better than that.”

Wemmbu tries to twist away, but he’s still slightly winded from before, movements slower, less coordinated.

“Yohou’re the worst!” he gasps between laughter, attempting to shove at Flame’s wrists. “Thihis is abuse—!”

“Oh, please,” Flame scoffs lightly. “You’ll survive.”

He shifts tactics again—one hand steady, the other moving unpredictably, keeping Wemmbu guessing so he can’t brace properly.

Wemmbu attempts another sharp elbow to the ribs which was swiftly evaded by Flame, who kept at his sensitive kneading while doing so.

“Bro… still trying?” he teases. “That’s pretty bold.”

“Stohohop talking—!”

“I could,” Flame replies. He absolutely does not.

Instead, he leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it worse.

“You’re way less tense now.”

“Juhuhust– Just be quiEHEhet!!” And that’s the most infuriating part.

Because it’s true. Wemmbu hates that it’s true.

His protests are weaker now. Still dramatic, still sharp, but edged with something closer to breathless surrender than actual resistance.

Flame slows just enough for Wemmbu to think—foolishy— that the worst of it is over. Big mistake on his part.

His hands withdraw from Wemmbu’s sides, watching as Wemmbu sagged slightly against the wall, dragging in a shaky breath.

“Finally,” he mutters hoarsely. “Took you long enou—”

Flame’s eyes flick upward slowly, and the playful sharpness in them doesn’t fade. It sharpens, curiosity replacing simple smugness as if he’s just noticed a detail he can’t believe he missed before.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “Wait.”

Wemmbu doesn’t like that tone. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t like any of what’s been happening for the past ten minutes or so. “What.”

Flame tilts his head, studying him again. But this time not his posture. It was higher. “You’re tense up here too.” The other cocked his head slightly to the left in confusion at those words. “Up wh—”

Flame’s fingers dart upward in one smooth, deliberate motion, brushing lightly behind Wemmbu’s ear in a slow, almost experimental scratch—just enough to test the reaction.

Wemmbu physically jerks, shoulders snapping up instinctively as a startled sound escapes him. Not even laughter at first, just pure shock. “FLAme—?!”

Flame freezes for half a second. Then very slowly grins. “Oh my god bro, that’s horrible.”

“No. No it’s not— don’t you da—!” Too late. Flame’s fingers lightly scratch just behind his ear again, this time more precise and calculated.

Wemmbu’s knees nearly buckle at the mere touch of those hands.

He clamps both hands over his ears immediately, glaring furiously while trying to stop the breathless laughter creeping back in. “You’re evil.” he hisses, voice cracking.

Ignoring his discriminatory comment, Flame steps closer. “New discovery bro,” he murmurs, clearly pleased. “High sensitivity zone.”

“Stop calling it that—!” Spoiler alert, Flame doesn’t.

Instead, one hand distracts at Wemmbu’s wrist, gently prying it just enough for the other hand to move lower. Fingers brush lightly at the side of his neck.

Wemmbu folds forward with a strangled laugh, shoulders scrunching up as he tries to duck away, hands scrambling to block both spots at once. “NOHOHO— not thehehere—!”

“Oh, definitely there,” Flame replies smoothly. He alternates between the back of his ear and the side of his neck, light, unpredictable touches that make it impossible for Wemmbu to properly brace.

Every time he thinks Flame’s going for one spot— He switches. “Youhuhu- You’re insuhUHUhfferable!” he gasps, attempting to shove him again but missing by a mile because he’s too busy trying to protect his neck.

Flame leans in slightly, lowering his voice again—purely to be irritating.

“You didn’t warn me this was a weak point.”

“Ahahand why- would i tehehell yohou- Flame!” He roared, trying to sound serious as he held both of his rival’s hands.

Another quick scratch behind the ear.

To his horror and FlameFrags’ delight, Wemmbu makes a sound that he will absolutely deny later. “AHAH– Ignohohore thahAHAhat–!”

Flame bursts out laughing at that one.

“Ohoho- that one was new.”

“Shut up!” Wemmbu tries to twist sideways to escape, but Flame corners him against the wall again, one arm braced near his shoulder while the other continues its evil little mission.

“Thihis is lohOHOhow! Stahahap!” Wemmbu protests between breathless laughter, desperately trying to tuck his chin down to guard his neck.

“All’s fair in love in war,” He just shrugs, as if this situation was the most normal thing in the world.“Consider it… stress relief.”

“FohOHOhor- For who?!”

“For me, mostly.” He half heartedly glares at that, but his cheeks now tinted in a pink hue and the big goofy smile he wore did him no justice. Wemmbu attempts one last desperate maneuver, ducking suddenly under Flame’s arm.

It almost works, exactly how it went last time.

And we all know how last time went.

Flame catches the edge of his collar and lightly drags his fingers up the side of his neck again as he does.

Wemmbu collapses back against the wall in defeat, laughter spilling out freely now, pride officially in ruins. “NAHAhah!- HehEHEhe!- Ohohokay, okahahay!!”

Flame slows, just barely. And that smug grin hasn’t faded for a second. If anything, it’s grown… softer? Scratch that—there’s no way he’s imagining it this time. That’s definitely a smile, and it’s directed to him of all people.

“Still think you were fine bro?” he asks teasingly, finally retreating from the mace user’s sensitive spots. Wemmbu glowers at him through flushed cheeks and messy hair but quickly turns his head away, embarrassed.

“I hope the thousand people outside target you first.”

Flame chuckles. “Worth it.”

btw the timeline is before they fight the 1k players :^)

HAUAUAHHJN YAAAYAYYYY LEE!WEMMBU I WIN

#welcome to canary's talk show #canary's fanmail #lee!wemmbu #ler!flamefrags #unstable universe tickle #tickle fic

Flame and Wemmbu give off older(flam) and younger(wemmby) siblings vibes.

Yes! Exactly ohhh dude you get it you get it.

Absolutely seeing it as like Flame tkling Wem every single time he needs to get his way with something when it’s not like a big actual deadly fight yknow?

—

Just imagine the wholesome and soft scenarios between them, Flame trying to get something from Wemmbu that was 100% rightfully Wems and him trying to pry it out of Wemmbus hands and when flame realizes that Wem is getting stronger now, he just goes for the sneaky route instead and scribbles his fingers all over Wems tummy instead and that gets him to drop it almost immediately.

Definitely had wrestling matches with each other and Flame being the older brother core 100% just pinned Wem down and used both sets of arms to keep him in place while he blew raspberry after raspberry. Wem just screaming his head off after a little bit.

Flame also for sure has dimed Wem out in front of his enemies too, like mid fight as well. Someone is like “dude Wemmbu is here run!” And Flame laughs and announces proudly that all they need to do is tkl Wemmbu and he wouldn’t be as much of a threat.

(Wemmbu standing there staring at Flame with wide eyes before sprinting away at the realization that the people he was fighting are taking it seriously.)

—

Stoppp I’m gonna have to draw some more sibling core tkls of those two they are so sweetie pie 😭

#tickles #ghostleetickles #ghostleebeingagremlin #lee!wemmbu #ler!flamefrags #unstablesmptickles #sfw tickling community