( This squad had a leads of misfortune, but than again who doesn’t in the savage Commonwealth? Lost many good ppl, now only them, a very small group. They made their base at the Cambridge police station.
Paladin Danse, the leader. This man live and breath the Brotherhood. Wearing this massive armor like I wear a silk nightgown. Seriously.
Haylen, she is a cute button, might something going on between her and Rhys well at least from her point of view. Follow order without question. Adoring the leader like a demi-god.
Rhys…rude arrogant. Flashing his skill in words but sit on his bum all day. Aham, I get you mate, you’re the best.
And this is the squad I temporarly joined into to help them)
title: the council rating: T summary: sarada uchiha is not one to be played. author’s note: nothing can convince me that sarada isn’t the perfect balance of strong and sarcastic. she is the sasusaku lovechild. disclaimer: i don’t own naruto, or any of it’s characters. all rights reserved to tv tokyo, shonen jump and kishimoto. ps: am i supposed to capitalize the word sharingan? and the names of justus? the world may never know.
It’s true enough that she had her mother’s spirit—her slight akin for kindness and softness under her stone cold, black exterior. She had Sakura’s aptness and almost desperate need to want to heal and protect her loved ones, but she had always been her father’s daughter through and through.
From her hair to her eyes; from the way she hated anything over the top to the way she couldn’t stomach anything remotely sweet; from the way she was born a prodigy to the way everyone seemed to think she took up after Itachi.
Like her uncle, Sarada was a genius and the combination of her sharp eyes and mind let her see the shinobi world for what it truly was and it left her torn; a formidable ninja with the heart of a pacifist. She didn’t mind taking the medical route, but her Uchiha pride and blood didn’t allow to be anything less than the best ninja around town, nothing less than the best for those she loved.
The love from an Uchiha is a love like no other; it’s deeper, louder, more intense, and not to be handed out lightly. There were few people Sarada could say she truly loved in the world—she didn’t dare extend it beyond her teammates and family. But the love she had for those select few ran deep to her very core and she vowed to herself to do nothing less than protect them until the day she died. She wouldn’t stand for anyone attempting to harm her loved ones, nor did she stand for any slander against them.
So when an elder of the Konoha council seethed about the dangers of the Uchiha and the threat they posed to village, Sarada didn’t blink twice at controlling her temper (she was Sakura and Sasuke’s child after all—she had a tempered unmatched by the most jealous and vengeful of gods).
“What did you just say?” Tone dangerously low, eyes all but barely open as she squinted in the direction of voice that had dared to insult her clan, her family.
Most would agree that a sixteen year old had no business attending a meeting for the clan heads and other important officials and notable shinobi of a major powerhouse in the allied nations. Except if that sixteen year old year girl was a clan head herself, the Captain of the Police Force and the strongest kunoichi of the newest generation of Konoha ninja.
Sarada sat at the lefthand most corner of the round table, to her right, Naruto sat loud and proud at the head of the table, Hanabi Hyuga to her left. Heads of other important Konoha clans sat in succession, followed by military leaders, ANBU captains, research division heads, Granny Tsunade, and the village elders.
The meeting had been called to discuss village security, given the staggering amounts of missing and dead ninja reports on top of requests for ninja escorts and guards from surrounding towns. Hanabi suggested stationing more Hyuga around the borders, to potentially foresee and prevent future attacks or suspicious activity. As head of investigation and interrogation, Ino suggested that Naruto send recon squads to spy and gather further information. Tsunade claimed they ought to focus on the barely living ninja that had been brought back to the hospital in shreds. Naruto listened intently, alarmed at the situation, but content that the group in front of him had such wonderful ideas. Until one of the elders opened their mouths.
“If you want Konoha to be safe, Hokage-sama, I say that you need to start with protecting people from the inside,” Lady Choi grunted. The gray haired woman was nearing 97 years old, but had the sass of a surly nineteen year old. In all there were five elders on the board, Lady Choi and her brother Meno by far the most conservative of the bunch.
“How do you suggest we do that, Lady Choi?” Naruto asked. Old people were never exactly his thing, but dealing with Lady Choi was like dealing with an angry Tsunade—not something he preferred to do.
“If you want this village to be safe, you ought to purge it of internal dangers. Start by getting rid of those murdering ministers in the Uchiha complex. That family has brought nothing but pain and torture to this village for years.”
Eyes at the round table went wide. While Lady Choi was conservative and snarky in conversation, she remained an elder, and few chose to openly reply to her with the same amount of sarcasm and sass that she dished out. Except for Sarada Uchiha.
“Excuse me?” She snarled. “What did you just say?”
Onyx eyes stay fixated on the old woman across the room. Exactly who did this raisin think she was?
“You heard me, child. Those damned Uchiha are the reason for half of the attacks on this village. Hokaga-sama, just how many times have we had rogue ninja sneak past border security looking for that cursed sharingan? They’re murders, a danger to the people of Konoha, and a threat to our security.”
“Murderers? And what do you call our Assassination ANBU unit? I suppose they’re a bunch of holy purgers, correct?” Sarada’s voice dripped sarcasm, her knuckles becoming whiter the harder she gripped on to the table.
“They’re given orders,” Choi retorted, “Those Uchiha kill at their own free will. Itachi Uchiha nearly killed his entire clan, what makes you—”
“Shutup.” Sarada’s voice ripped through the room at a dangerously low octave. All eyes on her, she stood up from her chair, hands firmly on the table, it took all of her strength not to activate mangekyou and end the old woman across from her.
“Who do you think you’re talking to, child? Show some respect.
If there was one thing Sarada hated in the world more than anything, it was being called a child. She had worked far too hard to be diminished to such a status. Her pride wouldn’t let her.
“This child is the head of the Uchiha clan.” she seethed. “You shut your mouth about my uncle, lady. He is not a murderer—”
“Where is your respect? I am a village elder, you ought to be arrested for talking to me like this.”
“Arrested? You’d think you’d know something for being an elder—you can’t arrest the Captain of the Police Force, grandma.”
Choi’s eyes went wide. “This is the new Police Captain, Hokage-sama?” she accused Naruto, bewildered that the youngest Uchiha held such a powerful title. “No matter, insolent child. You ought to have respect for—”
“Respect is earned, not handed out like blankets in the winter,” dangerously dark eyes bore through the old woman, “You seem to be the only one not knowing who you’re dealing with here. Tch, you’d think for being as old as you are, you’d know basic social rankings around here.”
Sarada pushed back her chair and crossed her arms. “Village elders sit on a board, thrice removed from the right hand of the Hokage. On par with Clan Heads, first behind the Chief of the Medical Corp, second to the ANBU Black Ops, and third to and furthest removed from the Chief of Police,” she spat, “You’re a nothing but a political figurehead—you advise the Hokage and provide him with a primary source of historical events, but by no means do you have nearly as much power as anyone else at this table. In fact, any nominations or proposals you make and be checked and vetoed by Tsunade-sama, ANBU and me.”
The room fell even more quiet than before. Some were shocked, others like Hanabi and Tsunade sat comfortably with a small grin on their face. To Sarada’s right, Naruto sat with his hands folded, chin resting in his palms with a signature grin settled on his face; the three of them had the same thought—just like Sakura.
“Say what you want about power,” Choi retorted. “That’s all you Uchiha are after anyway. I’ve seen too many rogue Uchiha in my lifetime and mark my words you’ll end up just like that monster Itachi, killing off his entire clan and—”
“Because you told him to,” Sarada roared. “If you’re going to talk about my uncle then tell the truth. You and your band of elders are the very people who ordered Itachi Uchiha to kill his family. You told a fifteen year old boy that the only way to save the village was by murdering his family and I’ll be damned if you think I’m going to sit here and let you spread lies about him. He is not a monster and the Uchiha are not murderers. Mind you we built this village—I will not sit here and let you spread lies about my family.”
Then Sarada did the unimaginable; leaned forward, grabbed Choi by her collar and brought her to her level.
“You mark my words: the Uchiha are not your pawns. If you think you can control and manipulate me and then conflate my story to fit your twisted beliefs, then you’re dead wrong. I am my uncle’s niece, my father’s daughter, but I am not the summation of their actions. I will tell their stories but don’t you dare try and tell mine. If you even so much as dare to tell the smallest lie about my family ever again, I’ll show you exactly what happened, so you won’t forget it,” sharingan swirling, Sarada let the old woman go, standing upright again.
“Am I understood?” the blood red of her sharingan piercing through Choi’s mind. Sarada hadn’t dared to activate a jutsu, but the proximity and sight of the legendary doujutsu had been enough to shut Choi’s mouth.
In the tradition of the Uchiha, Sarada leaned forward again, daring and unsatisfied, “I said, am I understood?”
Lady Choi inhaled sharply, looking at the ninja in front of her and around the room. When it was clear to her that not even the other elders were going to defend her, she hesitantly met the red eyes in front of her and nodded gravely, “Yes, Captain.”
With a satisfied smirk, Sarada brushed off her flak jacket and took her seat again, turning to Naruto as if to say she was ready for the meeting to resume.
The blonde Hokage gave his goddaughter a reassuring smile, and looked to Tsunade who had the same look on her face—Sarada Uchiha was most definitely her father’s daughter.
That’s one downside of learning from Danse. He inspires the kind of personal loyalty that isn’t good for a Brotherhood soldier, something that goes beyond loyalty to your commander. The moment Danse was discovered to be a synth, he stopped being a Paladin and Haylen’s commanding officer. And yet Haylen remained loyal to him, loyal to Danse the individual, not Danse the commanding officer or Danse the brother-in-arms.
Rhys doesn’t understand how she can do it. Not only did she risk her own neck helping Danse escape, she’s still risking her neck sneaking messages to and from him. She thinks Rhys doesn’t notice, hasn’t noticed the holotapes that she opens on the terminals and then wipes immediately after, typing in her own message on the freshly-blanked holotape before ejecting it hastily and sliding it in her boot.
She doesn’t trust Rhys enough to tell him. Or maybe she’s just trying to keep him safe from the secret. If he doesn’t know, he can’t be implicated too. That seems a little more like Haylen, actually, but she also hears Rhys unflinchingly speak curses with his fellow soldiers when the topic of Danse comes up. He snarls his disgust the same way they do, disbelief at the synth could slip between the cracks, for so long.
He hates himself for saying it. But he can’t really leave the Brotherhood, can he? What else does he have? What else does Danse have, for that matter? It’s a thought that haunts Rhys, knowing that Danse’s world revolved around the Brotherhood as much as his own does. The new knight-turned-paladin, the de facto replacement for Danse (even though nobody says it, nobody makes any official change for the commander of Recon Squad Gladius) is taking care of him, as far as he can tell from the sneaking glances he’s gotten from Haylen’s exchanged holotapes.
Haylen’s going to get herself killed if she keeps that up. What the hell is Rhys supposed to do then?
Someone catches on, eventually.
Rhys is in the vicinity by sheer accident, actually, as Haylen’s arm is grabbed and she makes a panicked grab for the holotape yanked out of her hands. At first Rhys is furious at the sheer audacity that anyone, much less one of their own, would lay their hands on her like that, but his anger turns to terror as he realizes what’s going on. The knight gripping her arm doesn’t see Rhys from this angle.
It’s almost too easy to shove the knight off of Haylen and put himself between her and the knight. He can’t grab at the holotape in the other knight’s hand, but his own barked demand as to what they think they’re doing is enough to give them pause.
“She aided the synth that infiltrated our ranks.
Rhys has never been exactly all that gifted in the art of bullshitting. Haylen can’t see his face when he goes very still and she seems to think that Rhys is about to turn on her too; she begs Rhys to let her explain, but the knights in front of him already can tell that Rhys doesn’t need an explanation.
It’s definitely too easy when he takes a swing at the knight holding the holotape.
“Nobody saw anything, but we need to get off the Prydwen now.”
“We can’t take a vertibird down,” Haylen says, the panic rising in her voice. “Rhys- they’ll ask us why, they won’t just let us leave.”
“Then we find another way down,” he replies, wracking his brain for a different plan. He wishes that Kells had positioned the Prydwen a little bit closer to the water rather than directly over the airport, because even at this height maybe they could have jumped into the water and suffered a broken leg or two instead of completely disintegrating against the concrete.
Jumping into the water wouldn’t have worked anyway. The only way down is through a vertibird or jumping.
“We need a suit of power armor for you,” Rhys says suddenly. “The paladin’s suit is always on the Prydwen, it hardly ever gets used. It’s not a perfect fit, but-”
“What? Oh my god, we’re not fighting our way through the ship,” Haylen answers, on the verge of tears.
“We aren’t fighting. We’re getting off the ship.”
“What? What do you mean-”
Rhys doesn’t wait to explain. He drags her along immediately, knowing that every moment they stall is a moment longer for someone to set off the alarm. He has his own power armor, and getting into that isn’t exactly suspicious, but Haylen getting into the paladin’s armor? Very much so.
“Get in, and if anyone says anything justrun,” Rhys whispers in her ear. He climbs into his own armor easily enough but Haylen takes a moment to make sure she’s not pinching or catching any of herself in the locking mechanisms.
An aspirant starts to walk in their direction.
Rhys grabs for Haylen’s armored arm.
“What are you doing with-”
He starts to run.
He feels somewhat bad for blindsiding a scribe in his haste to get the fuck out, but this is a little more important. Someone yells for them to stop, but Rhys doesn’t hear the words at all. Haylen’s legs aren’t doing a great job keeping up while encased in the heavy metal but she’s keeping up without tripping.
They make it to the back of the ship with at least four people hot on their heels. A pistol gets drawn from behind them and Rhys sees the laser fly past his head.
Haylen doesn’t even bother trying to climb over the railing; she takes an enormous leap over the railing with both feet, and Rhys watches her plunge just before he does the same.
Rhys swears softly to himself, and wonders if he’s fucked up his leg beyond repair somehow considering that the pain in it won’t go away.
Haylen is doing her best to support his weight but it’s exhausting to walk and have someone lean on you at the same time. Rhys tries to keep his weight off of her, but she keeps pulling him closer whenever he starts to drift. Damn the hydraulics on his power armor, they had to fail the one time he needed them to hold up. Without it Rhys knows he would have shattered both of his legs, but it’s still irritating him that it didn’t work the way it was supposed to. And now he’s stuck with this limp that Haylen has to help him with.
“Almost there,” she tells him. The sun is starting to dip lower into the sky, somewhere beyond the broken buildings of the Commonwealth.
In the distance, Rhys can see the stone walls of Fort Independence. The Castle, everyone calls it now though, and while it’s not quite the regal fortress that the word brings to mind, it’s still impressive. The walls look like they could probably take some very strong hits, maybe even a few missiles.
They’re close enough now that Rhys can make out the forms of people, somewhat obscured by the dimming sun and the mist from the ocean. The light in the lookout tower in front of the Castle’s land-facing entrance flickers on, and someone’s shadowy form hurries down the outside steps and dashes to meet them.
Danse looks much different without the Brotherhood uniform. Now he wears the same clothing that the other Minutemen do, including the hat that he’s removed at the moment. There’s a crude-looking laser weapon strapped to his back, something that looks suspiciously like someone took apart a laser pistol and attached some wood parts to it.
“Haylen? Rhys?” he asks in disbelief. “You’re injured, what happened-?”
“We may or may not have jumped off of the Prydwen in power armor, sir,” Rhys admits immediately. Danse’s face blanches, probably at the jumping part but also at the “sir” part. Rhys reminds himself not to call Danse that anymore.
“I was caught,” Haylen adds, trying to shift the blame off of Rhys. “We couldn’t get down with a vertibird.”
“You need a doctor,” Danse says. “Here.”
He easily lifts Rhys up into his arms, and Rhys suppresses the undignified squawk that almost leaves his throat.
“It’s not that bad,” he protests, but Danse doesn’t let him down and he’s already being carried toward the doors. A few Minutemen question them, but Danse only replies with a curt “they’re with me” and the questions stop.
“It’s good to see you again,” Rhys says. He buries the old habit of “sir” somewhere deep, and replaces it with something more personal. “Danse.”
“It’s good to see you again too, Rhys,” Danse replies, and his grip tightens for just a moment.
this is why i love tumblr. the gods are kind - thank you for being such a blessing ;w;. can i req the following? diego | mista | giorno seeing their crush in a maid costum (task calls for it?) and they're embarassed as hell, blushing bastards - tho they have to stand stares at times and maybe even perverted people? duno uh, at one point they reunite with allies or smthng and crush tries to run away and ends up slamming into them, and hide their faces in their chest. "hide me plz."
[A bit of AU here and there just to make it seem cuter! So don’t judge the change in main manga plot :D]
✖ DIEGO BRANDO ✖ - It was on infiltrating Valentine’s ranks to get back the corpse parts that Diego very unwillingly handed you a maid outfit. He knew you’d easily sneak into the mansion undetected but damn he didn’t want you to wear that - When he sees you again a few days later at the next stage of the race by Valentine’s side on the judging podium did he feel his heart race. Were you always this cute? You seemed so much more demure. - There was a bright blush on your face, its obvious you weren’t used to this many people being around you as you wore such an outfit. Soon enough, the moment the speech ended you were running away from the stage - Diego was chasing after you of course, his own instincts screaming at him to protect you. From what he wasn’t sure but when he finally caught up to you seeing you his heart just begun to race. - When you abruptly turned around and crashed into him he just can’t do anything but wrap his arms around you tighter telling you that its ok, the embarrassment evident on your face as you tightly grab onto his shirt. - His protective instincts on overdrive as Diego just kept telling you how you’re safe now with him and you did a good job, even better when you press the corpse parts into his hands he just tilts your face up for a kiss. Making sure you knew that he had a thing for you. If you had any doubts all of it was cleared now. - He wouldn’t say anything afterwards but tell you that he’s proud of you and ruffle your hair a little before being the stubborn ass that he is and turning away before you can see his own embarrassment.
✖ GUIDO MISTA ✖ - Mista’s first reactions is to complain, why must it be His crush arn’t there any other girls in Passione! He didn’t want anyone else seeing you in that somewhat fetishable outfit and was adamant on making sure he won the argument. - When Giorno finally got it through to him how your stand, abilities, and current availability was really the only one applicable for the job he reluctantly let you go. Not having seen you in a while, knowing that in a few days he’ll meet you again in the rendezvous point he chilled out. - When it finally came to meeting you, he was with the rest of the gang as the shootout went on, your intel giving them a good idea on where to go, what to do, when to shoot. The mission was a success so far. - So when you came running down the hall into his arms due to him standing in front of the gang, he just melted, Sex Pistols doing their best as they flew around making sure you were safe too. - When you whisper into his chest for him to hide you expect him to do just that, using his own body to shield you as he looks over at Giorno for permission and watching his Don nod to let him leave with you - With the two of you are finally alone safely he’s just hovering over you asking you what you need, do you want a jacket, are you ok, did they do anything to you, and you can’t help but to smile through some tears as you told him some of the things they did to you and how you couldn’t do anything because of your job. - Now he carefully lead you to the safety of the other members waiting outside, demanding they help get you new clothes before he himself go back into enemy territory to make them pay for what they did to you. - The only one who could look at you that way was him and him alone, and he was going to make sure that he’d pay them back for you.
✖ GIORNO GIOVANNA ✖ - Being part of recon squad also meant that you dealt with internal recon of the enemy. Thus earning you the job of having to put on the maid dress. - Giorno sure wasn’t complaining but the idea of other people seeing you in that skimpy outfit sure set him slightly on edge. You were someone he loved and he was selfish when it came to you. - But famiglia over all, and he trusted you more than anyone else to pull off this important infiltration mission and come back to him unharmed. So it was still you in the end he picked. - He watched you before you left though, the slightly too short skirt and the way the white apron wrapped around your waist, he didn’t like how damned good you looked in it but there was nothing he could do, it Was the enemy’s uniform. You had to wear it. - So when he finally saw you again a few days later it was when he was personally doing the final recon from outside the mansion, watching you through binoculars as the enemy boss placed his hand on your lower back and you flinched. - And when Giorno saw the rage in your eyes as you held back the urge to call out your stand yet giving the enemy a kind smile the cool Don snapped, the fight was on. Right now. It was on. - It took mere moments before he and Gold Experience made it in and by your side as you cowered behind him, if you were to pull out your own stand to finish the job yourself Giorno would gracefully aid you. - So after the battle when you broke down in his arms, his just gave you a soft smile, patting your head and promising you he wouldn’t do something like that to you again.