#Ling Ying Wei

[valdaycare-au]

"dependable" crew of babysitters, more like DATEABLE. i am down bad for them.

We're a bunch of hot shits here, that's not surprising at all!

Date... able??? We're babysitters, not participants in a dating show. Are we????

Someone wants to be babied, it seems. (Very fatherless of them.)

I'm sorry, I-uh... We are single, I think??? But not ready to mingle...??? We're babysitters...

(too flustered)

(Mateo is assigned for social media rep such as these, but since you flustered him so much, Vincent has to answer for us. -Ling Ying Wei)

Monsieur, Madame, whatever you are and whatever you identify with, I believe you need to get off your phone and touch some grass.

(Vincent, play nice.)

Pardonnez-moi, Mademoiselle Ling. What I meant to say is that we take care of children and not those who act like children.

(VINCENT.)

We're not available.

But thank you for thinking we're... what do you call this, "dateable". You have good taste. Oh and also if you DO want to, text me when you're free. Here's my number: [redacted for our employee's safety]. J'adorerais sortir un jour. Call me. ;)

(ooc: @domiiiq312 had the hardest time drawing the two daddies—i mean, the two nice, freakishly tall gentlemen named sasha and vincent in the panel so if you guys can just show some love for it, it would be appreciated. she almost cried. gone sexual. police were called. ALSO GOOGLE TRANSLATED FRENCH.)

[ryonello]

can't draw valorant catgirls without adding sage :3

[swiftyangx12]

[Y/N]: *Injured during a mission gone wrong*

Sage: *Trying to heal them* Oh no, you’re losing blood.

Skye: Quick! What’s your type?

[Y/N]: *Delirious* Hehehe…Blue hair, concentrated gaze, broad shoulders, Tsundere, and a big d-!

Skye: Your blood type!

[One of Jett’s kunai knocked them out.]

[Y/N]: GAH-! *Unconscious*

Jett: *Far away* Sorry!

Skye: Oh shit. Yoru is gonna be upset about this.

[divinegrey]

𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙡𝙮 / 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙭 𝙜𝙣!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

inspired by sage and her iconic butterfly knife moment in the new cinematic. enjoy you thirsty animals

prompt: while sitting in the common area doing reports, you can't help but take notice to sage's skill with her butterfly knife

words: 1200

warnings: light spice, omega earth sage being dommy mommy, omen being omen

You have an issue. 

It’s incredibly difficult to get anything done when Sage is in the room. Ordinarily, you’d have no problem working alongside the healer to get the massive stack of reports done, but when she’s doing that every second, it’s causing little to get done on your end. 

One might ask what is she doing?

You glance up from your tablet, hearing the sharp schink! as Sage flips out her butterfly knife, twirling it between her fingers with a practiced ease that is oh so casual. She’s not even looking at it, too engrossed in reading a report you’d just finished a few moments ago. Internally, you cringe; the report is likely bad by her standards because Sage’s knife has been attractively distracting. 

You look back down and keep typing, inhaling a breath of the recycled oxygen that comes through the vents of the common room. No such thing as fresh oxygen these days. The supply of Radianite here leaves little room for any advancement, hence the Protocol going out to get more. 

If only our copies would stop getting in the way, you think to yourself. 

Sccccchink! Sage’s knife brings your eyes back up, her fingers nimbly avoiding the sharp edge as she flips and twists it over her knuckles, doing complicated combos that must’ve taken hours to perfect. Of course, Sage would know how to do the advanced moves— if there’s anyone who could, it would be her. 

“Something the matter?” Sage’s voice cuts through the noise of the vents cycling through. Immediately, you shake your head, looking back down at the tablet to fill out the rest of the section you’d been working on, detailing a successful spike mission, but it’s even harder to focus on that when you know Sage is looking at you. Curiosity lines her eyes, and you pretend the flush on your cheeks is because you’re wearing a comfy hoodie. 

Temporarily persuaded, Sage goes back to her little knife tricks, leaving a swarm of butterflies in your stomach every time you look up at her. Every so often (maybe too often), Sage catches you looking. You can’t help yourself— Sage’s strength and confidence has always been one of the primary reasons you like her so much, as a person and as a leader. 

And as something more, dipshit. 

Being alone with her in the common room isn’t exactly helping your wandering mind, either. If only Jett were here; she would be ruthlessly teasing the shit out of you right about now. 

Sage stands up abruptly, twirling her knife still in her hand as she walks over to you. The butterflies in your tummy intensify by tenfold. 

“Curious?” Sage asks, flipping the knife in her hand before throwing it into the air. It spins in circles before landing in her palm, closed and shut. You nod once, hoping your enthusiasm doesn’t show too much in front of her. Sage drops down onto the couch beside you, making you sit up a little straighter. Yet, she’s all too casual with the way she leans back and starts showing off again. 

She’s indulging, you realize. Sage hardly ever shows off. 

“It’s really cool,” you say, holding your tablet to your chest. “I would cut my hand off if I tried doing that.” 

“It takes practice,” Sage replies, before looking at you with a slight smirk. “Plus some dexterity. It’s hard to do tricks if your fingers can’t keep with the pace.” 

You’re not sure if she was actually insinuating something more with that, but your face burns up anyway. Sage laughs, flipping her knife into the open position before turning her body towards yours. The tip of her knife comes to rest on your chin, tilting it up to meet her eyes. 

“I could teach you,” Sage murmurs, “If you’re willing to learn. You need patience, practice… flexibility.” 

You swallow, forcing out a small laugh that feels incredibly awkward. “I don’t feel like we’re talking about the knife anymore.” 

Sage flips the knife closed after withdrawing it, the sound a loud click that feels akin to making a final decision. The healer tilts her head to the side. “Are we?” 

You notice her eyes dip down to your lips, and you take your chances. 

Sage meets you halfway for a kiss, the thought of reports and papers all but abandoned as you meld yourself with her. At some point, you make the ballsy decision to straddle her on the couch, caging her in with your arms. Kissing her is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, ever experienced— it’s something that opens your eyes, a faint coldness to her lips reminding you of the way her healing orbs feel like the cool ocean water over your skin. 

She seems pleased by this result, and honestly? So are you. 

Though it might seem that you have the upper hand and upper position, Sage makes it clear she’s controlling the pace, her hands on your chin to stop you from getting too greedy with it. She forces it slower, until all you truly feel are the worn callouses from years spent shooting a rifle and the heartbeat that thunders in your chest and in hers. 

The switch is flipped; Sage pushes you back onto the flat length of the couch, holding your hands above your head with only one of hers. It leaves you struggling to breath as your eyes meet. Something burns in her irises. 

“I see you watching,” Sage whispers, flipping her knife open. She drags the flat of the blade along your shirt, not nearly enough pressure for it to be threatening, but the motion of it leaves your core aching. “I see you staring when I’m training. Is there something you want? Say it.” 

You thought you hadn’t been so obvious— maybe you were, if Jett noticed. Maybe you were being obvious by standing near the windows that peer into the training room whenever Sage was in there working out her anger and her stress, marveling over her form and her fighting and her body and her—

Stop it. 

Sage’s warm breath tickles your cheek. “Say it.” 

You swallow your pride for the easiest sentence you’ve ever said. 

“I want you.” 

The corner of Sage’s mouth turns up. She kisses you, softer than the rest, and this one feels only a thousand times more intense with the weight of her body on yours. You wish you could reach for her, wish you could touch her and kiss her all over—

The door to the common room opens. Before Sage can pull away, both of you turn to see Omen standing there, holding his beloved bonsai tree in both hands as if cupping a bowl. He looks at you, then Sage, the slits of his eyes pulsing. Omen looks down at his bonsai. 

“Not a word, Omen, and I’ll buy you the bonsai scissors you want,” Sage says, sitting up and pulling you along with her. You’re a mess right now, and it’s only a little embarrassing that Omen is seeing you like this. 

Pleased by the development, Omen places his bonsai down at the table and takes a seat. Sage winks at you, stepping off the couch and taking her tablet to join him. 

You’re left on the couch staring at the ceiling with the thought of what the fuck just happened?

~~~~~ A/N: ehehe top sage brain go brrrrr

[tqxins]

summery sage 🌊🪷

[iamprometheus]

Thinking about this Val fic I read once that called Sage one of the younger agents. Like it was a great fic other than that but genuinely what. Are people walking around thinking Sage is any less than 40 years old

[overheardintheprotocol]

Sage: Are babies, inherently, evil?

Every Other Agent, in Unison: Yes!

[lena-point]

[twistedappletree]

[ell1fan4rtxx2]

Just a dad and his ducklings

[benevolenterrancy]

I absolutely love just how many time-travel fix-it fics there are in this fandom

[swiftyangx12]

“Sage, what are you doing in there?”

Also I love your art style. It’s adorable.

ぢーっ

[swiftyangx12]

[Y/N]: *Feeling down and walks behind Sage*

Sage: *Reviewing some reports*

[Y/N]: *Carefully hugs behind her*

Sage: *Little surprised and feel eased when looking back at them* Is everything alright?

[Y/N]: *Nods* I…just feel down today. Thought your presence would lift my spirits up. Is it okay to stay by your side?

Sage: *Smiles gently* You may.

[beyondborderszine]

SHOPPING TRIP

cyrintheum drew up a lovely scene of everyone enjoying a nice day out in the city.

The agents are out and about to go shopping, and Rhoioho provided us with an image of what going to the flower shop looks like with Sova, Cypher and Skye!

And what a lovely ending to a trip by spending the rest of the day in a cafe as illustrated by Minty_soosh.

[divinegrey]

𝙛𝙤𝙘𝙪𝙨 / 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙭 𝙛!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

welcome to my first writing post of 2023! i was feeling better and also was inspired by the cinematic + some tiktoks so here's some sage content! might do more in the future if im up for it :) happy new year everyone!

prompt: while you're trying to avoid her, sage finds you. things happen ;)

words: 1200

warnings: slight spice, mentions of sub/dom dynamics, use of honorific titles, sage being dommy mommy battle sage

There’s something to be said about the way you’re extraordinarily good at avoiding people. Now, you’re doing it because you’re avoiding them— you’re doing it because you’re trying to avoid one person in particular. 

That person would be none other than the Protocol’s resident second-in-command and primary healer, Sage. 

A reasonable question to ask now would be what exactly did you do to want to avoid her?

A valid question!

One you’re currently not at liberty to answer. You’re too busy trying to watch the latest episode of a TV show in the living room of the Protocol before training starts. You’re on deck with the other duelists for a good ol’ duelist-only training session, lead by Sova, funny enough. He is one of the best coaches, and one of the nicer ones. 

You tilt your head at the screen of your laptop, sitting on the table in front of you with your earbuds plugged in. The plot makes no sense, what the fuck did they do to this? It’s a little ridiculous how badly the writers have screwed over the plotline for this season— the characters are just so all over the place, it’s a disgrace. There are so many things you change about this if you could just—

Being so entrenched in your show, you hardly notice a certain sentinel walking up to the other side of the table. Her hand moves smoothly to the top of your laptop before pushing the screen down and shut. 

The cinematic music from the show comes to a dead stop, and leaves you only with the pounding of your heart in your ears. Your eyes slide up to meet Sage’s gaze, finding her warm brown eyes looking anything but happy to see you. Quickly, you glance around, finding you to be the only one in the room. 

Where the fuck did everyone go?

Sage keeps her hand on your laptop, her ring shining in the light. With her hand in place, she walks to the adjacent side of the table, putting her other hand on her hip. She’s in her full battle gear— her white robes are clean pressed and folded primly, her right over the left. There’s something about seeing her in her gear that makes you a little warm under the collar. 

(You know why. It’s fucking attractive.)

You make a show of glancing down at your wrist (bare) before moving to stand up from your seat. “Well, look at that, I have to go to training—” 

Sage’s hand moves in the blink of an eye to your shoulder, where she shoves you back down into the chair. You go down with a solid thump. 

Shit. 

“You’ve been excused from training,” Sage says, a tone to her voice that sends shivers down your spine. Her fingers squeeze into the meat of shoulder, a tense spot only she knows of due to her extensive time massaging out the kinks from hours spent in the infirmary with her. You try to restrain a sound, but it leaves your mouth against your will anyway. 

Sage merely raises her eyebrow. 

“Emergency spike retrieval. We leave in 15 minutes,” Sage says. 

You hardly have time to say a word before Sage moves again, throwing her leg over your lap and sitting down. Her hand grips your jaw— her fingers, so soft and nimble, hold you in place. 

“Are you going to run off again, or have you learned your lesson?” Sage’s thumb moves back and forth over your bottom lip, and your face is flushed red with the raw surprise of Sage being so bold in the Protocol common area. 

See, the reason you’d been avoiding her is because you’re like any other duelist— you rush into danger with bullets in your gun and grit in your teeth. More often than not, you come back to her battered and bloody; that’s your job. 

Sage doesn’t like that, you being her… it doesn’t matter what you are to her. You’re hers, and she doesn’t enjoy seeing you in pain. Last mission you were on with her, things went a little sideways, which lead Sage becoming genuinely angry with you, and angry Sage is a hell of a lot to be scared of. 

You being you, there’s a tendency to avoid people who are angry with you.

Apparently, you’ve taken too long to respond, because Sage taps your cheek twice with her pointer finger to snap you back to attention. You blink at her, showing your attentiveness (or lack thereof), and Sage hums. 

“Focus. We only have a couple minutes before I need to send you off to the locker room,” says Sage, her voice covered in honey-sweet sugar that sends a shiver down your spine. “Are you going to listen to me, this time?” 

There’s nothing you can truly do but nod in this situation, staring into her eyes. Any thought of avoiding her ceases to exist— you give up, simply, when it comes to Ling Ying Wei and who she is. She’s pleased; you know this, by the small upturn at the corner of her mouth. Your hands are kept firmly by your side— you’re trained, you know this, you know what to do. 

“I won’t run off,” you murmur softly. 

Sage smiles. “Good girl.” 

Sage slides her other hand into your hair, gripping it as she brings you closer for a kiss, and oh, this is what you crave. You crave her, and you’re willing to give up every ounce of control for it, even if it means doing as you're told on the battlefield. Sage is akin to your handler, the one who can keep you disciplined, keep you compliant and docile in her hands. 

You wrap your arms around her waist, burying your hands into the various folds and flaps of her clothes to touch her. Maybe you’re greedy, but you don’t care; Sage came in with a mission, and you’re never one to turn it down. 

But Sage, the strong, wise Sage, always keeps you on your leash.

Her hand on your throat prevents you from kissing her any more. Her eyes are darker when she pulls away, and Sage clicks her tongue. 

“Don’t get handsy now, bǎo bèi, we have a mission to do,” Sage says, lowering her hand to the collar of your hoodie. She curls her fingers, yanking it to tug you close to her. She whispers, “And if you do as you’re told, you’ll be rewarded very handsomely.” 

Your eyes glimmer at the prospect of a reward from Sage. 

Sage tightens her grip. “What do you say?” 

“Yes, Mommy.” the words come out of your throat hardly louder than a whisper, but it’s enough for Sage. She gets up from your lap, adjusting her clothes until they look good as new. You’re left stunned, struggling to get up from the chair to go change into your gear. 

God, you love it here. 

~~~~~ A/N: welp, i wrote something. back to my depression hole! thanks for reading :)

[imafraidoftomorrow]

I ordered the stupidest hat ever and I love it so so so much 💕