#agent shady

[phantous]

get bullied

[door430]

[Volume 1, Issue 7]

[FIRST] [PREVIOUS] [NEXT] [MASTERPOST]

(Updates Mondays at 12:00 PM EST)

[shrub-jay]

Wes Weston: IRS.

Wes Weston is used to billionaires having sketchy finances. An offshore account here, and offshore account there-- A second home in a tax haven. He's never seen books like Wayne Enterprise's before.

"What even is BASE jumping? Why do they have a whole Applied Sciences department with only one guy working in it?" Wesley Weston had questions for Bruce Wayne. Questions he would get answered, if the billionaire was ever actually in his office. This was why he found himself rumbling up to the Wayne's well manicured, monoculture lawn in an only slightly questionable Uber.

"Wes Weston, IRS," he whispers, practicing under his breath before knocking on the door. "Wes Weston. IRS," he says more confidently, fumbling to get his badge out of his pocket. The door swung open, and he jumped. Goddamn rich people with their motion detecting doorbells.

"Dick Grayson, Blüdhaven P.D."

---

Wes Weston stood back from his cork board as rain pelted his hotel room window.

"Holy ghost. Bruce Wayne is the fucking Batman."

[flareboi]

get mercenaried on

[for clarfication, these are all adults]

[ombgkrlmngnave]

YAYAYAYAY I DID IT 🎉🎉🎉

[grapeenthusiast]

token agent on a leash shaped instrument art + some others i gues. am i part of the community now guys

[vicagentstan]

[auroraglaceon]

Incorrect quotes generator thing I just thought this suits them omg I'm so normal for them

[methoughtsphantom]

Ghost tech?? Must be the fenton kid

Can be a twin au or not but vigilante friends Tim and Danny that meet up in secret in whoever’s city is the most calm at the moment (via ghost portals) until the day the GIW catches sight of this teenager talking and exchanging tech with Phantom. only the camera lens’ not great and they only see a black haired blue eyed kid.

which—ghost tech?? must be the fenton child

Later that day Danny arrives home, thinking it had been a pretty good day. Tim had just left and his parents were in a trip which meant he got to be a ghost freely around his house. He didn’t expect the Ghost Investigation Ward to be there when he got downstairs.

(To be fair the GIW also didn’t expect Phantom to be in Fentonworks) just picture:

The GIW is now certain Daniel Fenton is aiding and abetting Phantom.

They put up a bench warrant for him.

Tim is super surprised to see Danny not even three hours after he last saw him to ask him if his offer to dismantle the GIW still stands. It does.

[lasamydeer]

🖤 Mercenaries / Rocket Team 🚀

Agent Smith / Shady / Glasses / Adobe Stick Guy

Whatever name you give it :0

⚫️🕶️✨🖤

Primal / Hunter / CaveStick / Cave Guy

Whatever name you give it :0

🤎🏹🪵🟤

SignMan / Hazard / SignGuy / Pedestrian / Bathroom Sign

Whatever name you give it :0

🩶🚹⚠️

Pixels / Ballista / Henry S. / Pixel Guy

Whatever name you give it :0

🖤👾🔲▪️

[zofi-persson-quotes]

Green: I'm so happy, I could kiss you!

Purple: Um... Neat.

later

Purple, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," Shady. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid.

Shady, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Purp. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Vic confessed their love for me?

Purple: Didn't you thank them?

Shady: closes the book and looks at the ceiling I fucking thanked them.

[door430]

[Volume 1, Issue 10]

[FIRST] [PREVIOUS] [NEXT] [MASTERPOST]

(Updates Mondays at 12:00 PM EST)

[achlyisdumb]

A Birthday Burden

——AVA One Shot——

[It's Victim's Birthday! So I decided to make this one shot :D]

——————————————————————————————————

Victim sat alone in a dimly lit room, the faint glow of the screen casting eerie shadows across his face. The date on the calendar marked another year since his creation—a grim reminder of his existence. He loathed this day, a mockery of a celebration that highlighted his status as a mere mistake, a disposable toy for his creator. The name "Victim" felt like a curse, a branding that he could never escape.

His mercenaries, the group he had grudgingly come to rely on, had other plans. Among them, Agent Smith was the most persistent. Stoic, nonchalant, and cool-headed, Smith was determined to make Victim acknowledge this day, despite Victim's vehement objections.

Pacing the room, Victim's movements were sharp and agitated, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil. "I don't see why I should celebrate the day of my creation," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "It’s just a reminder that I'm nothing but a mistake. A plaything for that bastard."

Smith stood with his arms crossed, his expression unyielding. "You exist, Victim. That in itself is worth acknowledging. Your creation, regardless of the intent, means you have a presence in this world."

"A presence?" Victim scoffed, his pacing more erratic. "I'm a mistake. A discarded piece of code. That cad created me and threw me away without a second thought. Celebrating this day feels like celebrating my own misery."

The other mercenaries, each as professional and resolute as Smith, surrounded Victim. Their presence was a silent but powerful testament to their respect and loyalty.

"Even if you were a mistake, you've carved out a place for yourself," Primal said, their voice steady and sincere. "You lead us. You have a purpose."

"A purpose," Victim repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "My purpose is to exist in this endless loop of torment, all thanks to that wretch. He created me, deleted me, and left me to suffer. Every misfortune I’ve faced is because of him."

Smith stepped forward, his gaze piercing through Victim's rage. "Revenge won't change what happened. But denying yourself even the smallest moments of acknowledgment only gives him more power over you."

Victim's anger flared, his fists clenching at his sides. "You think a simple birthday celebration will make me feel better? You think it will change anything? I'm weak, powerless against him. Celebrating this day is a joke."

"We're not asking you to forget," Smith said calmly, his voice steady. "We're asking you to reclaim a part of yourself, even if it's just for a moment."

Victim glared at them, his chest heaving with frustration. "You don't get it. None of you do. That miscreant is the center of my world, the cause of all my pain. I want nothing more than to see him suffer as I have."

Smith's voice remained steady, but a hint of empathy softened his eyes. "Hatred consumes, Victim. It blinds you. If you focus only on your rage, you lose sight of everything else. Including the people who stand by you."

The words struck a chord, albeit reluctantly. Victim’s anger didn't dissipate, but a flicker of doubt crept in. He looked at the mercenaries, their unwavering expressions, their dedication. They weren’t just his followers; they believed in him.

"Fine," Victim said through gritted teeth, his shoulders slumping in reluctant acceptance. "I'll celebrate this stupid day. But don't expect me to enjoy it."

The mercenaries exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. They set up a modest celebration—a small cake and a few candles. Victim watched with a mix of contempt and resignation, his movements slow and deliberate as he approached the makeshift celebration.

As the candles were lit, Victim felt a surge of conflicting emotions. The act of celebrating felt hollow, yet the presence of his mercenaries, their insistence, held a strange weight. He couldn’t deny the effort they put in, even if it felt meaningless to him.

"Make a wish," one of them (Ballista) said, their tone neutral yet sincere.

Victim hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He closed his eyes, the image of that jerk burning in his mind. His wish was simple, fueled by rage and sorrow: to find a way to break free from the chains of his creation, to find a path where he wasn't just a victim.

He blew out the candles, the small flames flickering out one by one. The room fell silent, the air thick with unspoken words. Victim sat down, the celebration continuing around him. He didn’t feel better, the darkness within him still simmering. But for a moment, a brief, fleeting moment, he felt the presence of his mercenaries, their solidarity, and it was enough to quell the storm inside him, if only slightly.

"Thank you," he muttered, barely audible.

Smith nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Happy birthday, Victim."

The words hung in the air, a bittersweet reminder of his existence. As the celebration drew to a close, Victim knew that his hatred for that fiend wouldn’t fade, but he also knew that he wasn’t alone in his struggle. And that, in itself, was something worth acknowledging.

———

[flareboi]

puts him in casual outfit 👍

[shadewood45]

Coloured two panels of Coda from where I redrew a Voice of Reason page, with the colours from Golden Delicious! Coda, VoR and GD belong to @agent-8449 :)

[grapeenthusiast]

told you guys i was COOKING !!!!!! anyways . my version of agent :3 reference sheet edition !! if yuo like dont forget to like and subscibe