#goodboyaudios ironhide

[zeke-fanfucs]

I think I making a whole series of this @creatortools

Grocery store

IKEA

what next, mm?

(Also mentioned @solzticesoulz & @itsnotalliyh)

🛸 “Operation: Space IKEA”

aka: ‘They’re gonna kick us out again’

Featuring: Wyvern, Blanche, Sakura, Rosella, Ironhide, and Mammon.

⸻

“Nobody touches the displays.”

Wyvern was deadly serious as they floated out of the shuttle into the glowing maze of SPACE IKEA.

“We get a new couch, lights for the bathroom, and kitchen tools. That’s it.”

“New couch?” Blanche gasped, already kicking off toward the showroom section. “For us?? Wyvieee~”

“I’m getting more mugs,” Ironhide declared, cracking her knuckles.

“I live for tiny spoons,” Sakura added.

Rosella muttered something like, “I will eat the plastic fruit,” and walked off solemnly in the opposite direction.

Mammon? Mammon already wasn’t there.

⸻

10 Minutes In – The Descent

They were supposed to stay together.

Instead:

🛏️ Rosella was found asleep in one of the beds.

Full on knocked out, curled up under a fake blanket, a “Do Not Sit” sign used as a pillow.

Sakura found her and whispered, “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll protect you.”

She then stood at the edge of the bedroom display with a laser wrench like a guard dog. When staff approached, she said nothing—just cracked her neck slowly.

⸻

🍳 Meanwhile, in the kitchen displays…

Blanche had convinced Wyvern to act out a domestic roleplay scene.

“WHY DO YOU KEEP BUYING BLUE MUGS WHEN YOU KNOW I’M A SPRING??” Blanche fake-yelled, hurling a neon dish towel across the counter.

Wyvern rubbed his temples. “We are not doing this again, you emotionally unstable rabbit.”

Blanche pointed dramatically at an open drawer of silverware.

“I FOUND YOUR SECRET SPORKS. IS SHE A SPORK, WYVERN?”

Ironhide walked past them with a stack of lamps. “…Marriage counseling’s down the next aisle.”

⸻

🧸 Elsewhere…

Mammon was eating soft serve by the kids’ section.

He had not paid for it.

Three children sat around him like he was telling war stories. One offered him a sticker. He solemnly stuck it to his club.

⸻

30 Minutes In – Security Is Not Okay

The staff had so many questions.

• Why was there a wolf in the bed section?

• Why did a small woman with a wrench scream, “SHE’S NAPPING, LEAVE HER”?

• Why were two adults fake-divorcing in the kitchen aisle?

• Who replaced the LED lights in the mock living room with a disco strobe?

• Why was Mammon playing tag with five children and winning?

⸻

The Escape Plan

Wyvern finally gathered the team by luring them in with cheap meatball coupons.

Blanche was giggling with a fake plant under one arm.

Ironhide had an entire cart of mugs.

Sakura was dragging a groggy Rosella, who was still wrapped in a throw blanket like a tragic Victorian widow.

Mammon walked up last with two ice creams and a child’s hat that said “#1 Space Friend.”

“Let’s go,” Wyvern muttered. “Before they call the actual cops.”

⸻

Back on the Ship…car thing

They had:

• Six mugs

• Three spatulas

• A disco lamp

• An accidental lamp in the shape of Blanche’s ears

• A full couch, strapped to the roof

• And a new story to never, ever tell Wildfire or Blanche’s lawyer

Sakura flopped dramatically on the couch. “Best. Mission. Ever.”

Rosella curled beside her. “Can’t believe I napped on 90% cotton.”

Wyvern sipped space coffee and looked around at his ridiculous, chaotic, feral family

“…Next week. We try SPACE COSTCO.”

⸻

Spoiler: someone ends up in the freezer section. It’s Blanche.

[zeke-fanfucs]

@creatortools here’s your babies. @itsnotalliyh rosella is mentioned too

🛒 “The Grocery Gauntlet”

Featuring: Wyvern, Blanche, Sakura, Rosella, Mammon, Ironhide (and possibly a few innocent civilians, they probably need therapy now.)

⸻

“Okay,” Wyvern said, holding the crumpled grocery list like it was a diplomatic treaty. “This is a quick in-and-out mission. No side quests. No chaos. We buy food. We leave. Understood?”

Blanche saluted with two fingers and a wink. “Yes, Captain Lizard.”

Sakura threw her arm around Rosella’s shoulder. “I’m in charge of snacks. Rosella’s the lookout.”

Rosella, already pulling a scarf over her mouth and adjusting her dark glasses, muttered, “If I see a sale, I’m going feral.”

Mammon cracked his neck. “I get the meat aisle.”

Ironhide lifted her reusable tote bag like it was a warhammer. “I get the heavy stuff.”

Wyvern stared at all of them for a moment. Then sighed. “Fine. We’re splitting up. Meet back here in twenty. Try not to get banned again.”

⸻

10 Minutes In

• Blanche had somehow wandered into the baby section and was trying to figure out if a bunny-shaped onesie would fit Wyvern as a joke.

• Sakura was halfway into the snack aisle, arguing with a six-year-old over the last bag of spicy cloud crisps.

“I saw it first!”

“I don’t sleep, kid.”

“…you can have it.”

• Rosella had found the tea aisle. She stood there motionless, reading every single label with deadly precision.

She was later spotted with eleven boxes of chamomile and no regrets.

• Mammon was found in the freezer aisle… hugging an entire ham. When asked if he was okay, he responded, “Just bonding.”

• Ironhide was carrying five jugs of water, three sacks of flour, a bundle of bananas, and someone’s abandoned cart.

• Wyvern had lost the list. And Blanche. And maybe his mind.

⸻

15 Minutes In – Chaos Begins

Wyvern found Blanche again—only now, the bunny was trying on sunglasses and convincing an elderly woman that Wyvern was a famous soap opera actor.

“She’s asking for an autograph,” Blanche whispered gleefully.

Wyvern signed a receipt. It said “To Karen. Stay toxic. – W”

Meanwhile:

• Sakura had recruited Rosella into a covert cereal heist.

They wanted the last box of Strawberry Boom Crunch. It was on a high shelf.

Rosella boosted Sakura up like a sniper taking a shot.

When a store clerk asked what they were doing, Sakura just yelled:

“THIS IS FOR FENNEC!” and vanished into the next aisle.

• Mammon opened a package of jerky before paying. A manager stared.

Mammon offered a piece. The manager took it.

“…Proceed,” they said.

• Ironhide accidentally bumped a pyramid of canned goods.

Blanche leapt in like a football player to save a jar of jelly.

“MY LEG!” he screamed.

“You’re fine,” Wyvern muttered, putting a can of peaches back on the shelf.

⸻

Checkout

The cashier looked haunted.

On the conveyor belt:

• Five types of hot sauce

• Four family-sized cereal boxes (two open??)

• Eight frozen meats

• One bouquet of parsley that no one remembers grabbing

• A mysterious glowing orb (“Sakura what is this?” “It followed me home.”)

“Paper or plastic?” the cashier croaked.

Rosella dropped a metal coin on the counter. “We pay in pain.”

Sakura added, “And love. But mostly chaos.”

⸻

Aftermath

Outside the store:

• Ironhide carried all twelve bags at once.

• Mammon got a free sticker for “Being Cool.”

• Blanche tried to ride in the cart until Wyvern wheeled him straight into a bush.

• Rosella stole a receipt just to “destroy the evidence.”

• Sakura had a single bag of snacks and a smirk like she got away with murder.

Wyvern? He took one long look at them all, bags in hand, and said:

“…Never again.”

(He would absolutely do it again.)

Next mission: Space IKEA. Bring helmets.🪖

Do you accept? Yes. No.

(Too bad if you said no, I made it.)

[zeke-fanfucs]

@creatortools @nexischillin. I told you Nex my boy.. mammon is fun to break. Also! Creator said he wanted to read it! It’s been in storage.. and dman it’s gooddd

Only the Smoke Remains

Mammon wakes up choking.

Not from smoke, not from blood, not even from the heat blistering the air—but from silence.

The kind of silence that follows the end of something precious.

His heart’s hammering against his ribs like it’s trying to escape first. The cot beneath him groans, half crushed by his sheer weight, but he doesn’t move. He’s still there, even if his body knows better.

Still in the dream.

Still watching.

Wyvern is the first to fall.

Of course it’s him. Always rushing ahead, thinking he’s unkillable because no camera can catch him. That cocky grin still etched into his face as his throat is slit by a shimmer in the air.

“Don’t look,” he’d said once.

Mammon looks anyway.

And Wyvern drops like a ghost exorcised. No body. No nothing. Just his scarf, caught on a nail, flapping weakly like it misses him too.

Ironhide goes loud.

Blaster drawn, scream raw and full of rage. Mammon tries to run—he does, he swears he does—but the ground eats his boots, and his legs feel like they were dipped in concrete.

“GO!” Ironhide shouts, right before the blast goes off. Red. White. Then black. She crumples, bloody and still.

The echo of her final joke rings in Mammon’s ears.

“You break it, you bought it!”

He wants to laugh. Instead, he chokes on blood that isn’t his.

And Sakura—

She doesn’t scream.

She never screams.

She looks back at him, barefoot in the dust, blood spattered up her legs like she waded through it. Her knife is gone. Her hands are empty.

“Don’t worry, old man,” she says, smiling too wide. “I’m not scared.”

She lies so badly.

The bullet takes her in the chest.

Mammon watches her fall and tries to scream, but no sound comes out. His lungs refuse. His throat collapses. The desert hushes him like a grave.

He wakes again—this time for real—gasping. Cold sweat drips down his temple, down into the lines of his old scars. His chest is heaving. Something in him is howling, but it’s too deep to reach his mouth.

It’s dark in the room. Just the little oil lamp, flickering weak on the shelf. Someone’s left a blanket folded at the edge of his bed. Sakura’s, probably. She keeps sneaking into his stuff and pretending she didn’t.

His fingers are shaking.

He curls them into fists until the tremble stops.

Mammon doesn’t sleep again that night.

Instead, he walks the perimeter. Checks every lock. Touches every weapon.

Peeks into the room where Ironhide is snoring like a sawmill.

Listens at Sakura’s door just to hear the turn of her restless shifting.

And sees Wyvern’s jacket hanging on the wall where he always leaves it—untouched, right where he would’ve if he were dead.

Mammon doesn’t believe in signs.

But maybe he believes in the way his knees give out for just a second when he sees it there.

He sits on the porch ‘til dawn.

And when Sakura pads out in the morning, yawning, wrapped in her ridiculous three-blanket burrito cocoon and mumbles, “You look like trash, Gramps,”

Mammon just reaches out, and ruffles her hair.

“…You’re not wrong,” he says.

But gods, he’s never been so glad to be wrong before.

[zeke-fanfucs]

@creatortools your babies are strange bunch. I love them.

6/17

This Was Not the Plan

Featuring: Wyvern, Mammon, Ironhide, Sakura 🥳

They just needed to grab a bounty. Instead, they burned half a town square. Again..

⸻

There was a rule they tried to follow:

“No fire. No explosions. No drama.”

They’d never once followed it.

⸻

“You see that guy?” Wyvern murmured through the comms, crouched behind a pile of scrap in the alleyway. “Green jacket, glass eye, ugly moustache.”

“That’s like four guys in this town,” Ironhide whispered back, flat against a wall and armed to the teeth.

“No, the one picking his nose,” Sakura said helpfully.

“I WILL hit him just for that,” Mammon added.

“Focus!” Wyvern hissed. “He’s our target. We go quiet, fast, non-lethal.”

Mammon cracked his knuckles.

Ironhide chambered something that shouldn’t fit in that gun.

Sakura was already halfway up a roof.

Wyvern sighed. “You’re all chaos gremlins.”

“And you love us,” Sakura chirped.

“…Regretfully.”

The plan was simple: Mammon would block the alley. Ironhide would intercept from the front. Wyvern would talk. Sakura would drop in from above.

In theory, perfect.

In practice?

Sakura missed.

She landed two feet to the left of the guy, crunched through a fruit stand, and shrieked, “I’M FINE,” while covered in pineapple.

Wyvern lunged.

Ironhide launched a smoke grenade.

Mammon threw the entire alley trash bin like a discus and knocked out the wrong guy.

Suddenly, there were firecrackers. Somewhere.

Someone (probably Sakura) yelled “HE BIT ME!”

The bounty took off running—with Ironhide chasing him, Mammon trying to help but accidentally barreling through a tavern, and Sakura flinging grapes like grenades.

Wyvern, deadpan in the smoke, muttered, “So much for non-lethal.”

⸻

Ten minutes later…

There was a small fire.

A building may or may not have collapsed.

Mammon carried the unconscious bounty over one shoulder, Sakura had fruit guts in her hair, Ironhide was limping and bleeding—but grinning—and Wyvern was covered in soot and what suspiciously looked like marmalade.

“You know what?” he said, deadpan. “Not bad. Only mild arson this time.”

Sakura cheered. “Team improvement!”

“Technically the tavern still stands,” Ironhide offered.

Mammon gave a thumbs up with a bloodied glove.

They all collapsed on a bench, sweaty and victorious.

“Drinks?” Sakura asked.

“God, yes,” Wyvern groaned.

Ironhide raised her blaster. “I’ll pay.”

“YOU BLEW UP THE CASH,” Wyvern hissed.

Mammon shrugged. “We still have the bounty.”

“Who bit me?” Sakura suddenly demanded. “I never got closure.”