#sxs

kevin wants to be a main eventer, wants to win the world title and be jet2belts, doesn't want to 'trust the process' anymore. its honor without glory. and he hoped speedball would go with him! and then they don't. him joining the DCF is ostensibly for making matches, the farthest swing from speedball's honor, play dirty to get to the top any means necessary

jake being the most Heavyweight Title successful of speedball's major tag partners but also having health & medical bills that require reaching for higher payouts and such. being an indie wrestler isn't sustainable like being a tv wrestler. being in DCF is kf financial backing. jake isn't like 'this is what i have to do to Be A Man' but like. 'this is what I have to do to survive' which is like. unconscious avoidance of abjection yeah? something about how our conditions are constructed and reconstructed... has anyone else noticed this...

because consensus masculinity is constructed and enforced, going where the friction isnt means going where conformity is. there's an element to both jake & kevin not wanting to leave speedball behind but being somewhat coerced into doing so. wanting them to join them in climbing the ladder, in engaging with the consensus pathway to success, effectively in engaging with consensus masculinity because of the ways that they are treated for their queerness. but that's not what's authentic to them

Summary: When Storm Shadow kidnaps Scarlett as bait to exact revenge on his sworn enemy, Snake-Eyes unleashes a rare storm of rage to rescue the one person who means everything to him.

word count: 8000+

Paring: Snake-eyes and Scarlett

warnings: Blood, Fluff, Fighting

A/N : I hope you enjoy this one! Tell me what you think!

Masterlist

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The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the rugged terrain where the G.I. Joe Renegades had set up their temporary camp. It was a desolate spot, hidden in the folds of a forgotten mountain range, far from Cobra's prying eyes. The team—Duke, Tunnel Rat, Roadblock, and Scarlett—had been on the run for weeks, evading capture while gathering intel on Cobra's latest schemes. Snake-Eyes, the silent ninja commando, moved like a ghost among them, his black visor and tactical gear blending seamlessly with the encroaching dusk.

Snake-Eyes had always been the team's shadow, the one who slipped in and out of danger without a word. But lately, his focus had been divided. Scarlett, with her fiery red hair and unyielding determination, had become more than a teammate to him. Their relationship had blossomed in the quiet moments between battles—a stolen glance, a gentle touch, a signed conversation under the stars. She was his anchor in a world of chaos, the one person who could pierce through his vow of silence and see the man beneath the mask.

That evening, as the team huddled around a small fire, Duke, the steadfast leader with his blond hair cropped short and his eyes always scanning for threats, was reviewing maps by the flickering light of a small campfire. Tunnel Rat, the wiry demolitions expert with a Brooklyn accent as sharp as his knives, was tinkering with some explosives, muttering to himself about "Cobra scum." Roadblock, the hulking heavy weapons specialist whose deep voice could rumble like thunder, was cooking up a stew from their rations, humming an old blues tune to pass the time.

Scarlett, or Shana O'Hara as she was known in quieter moments, sat cross-legged on a log, her red hair tied back in a practical ponytail that still managed to catch the firelight like flames. She was sharpening her crossbow bolts, her green eyes focused and intense. She was the team's intelligence officer, a master of strategy and hand-to-hand combat.

Snake-Eyes himself was a shadow among them. Clad in his black commando gear, visor hiding his eyes, and mask covering his scarred face, he moved with the grace of a predator. His katana was sheathed at his back, and his presence alone was enough to deter most threats. But tonight he felt a prickle of unease. His instincts, honed by years of Arashikage training, screamed that something was amiss. He signed to Scarlett first, his gloved hands moving fluidly. Perimeter check. Stay alert.

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Be careful out there, Snake. Don't be gone too long."

He touched her shoulder briefly—a rare public display—before vanishing into the trees. Duke glanced up. "Everything okay?"

Scarlett shrugged. "Perimeter check. Better safe than sorry."

Duke nodded, his face etched with the weariness of leadership. "Go ahead, Snake. We'll hold down the fort here."

As Snake-Eyes patrolled the outer edges of the camp, his senses on high alert, he caught it: a faint glint of metal in the moonlight, half-buried in the leaves. It was too deliberate, too out of place. He approached cautiously, every muscle tensed. A small device, perhaps a tracker or a decoy. Then, a rustle to his left—purposeful, drawing him away. He followed, silent as death, his mind calculating. Was it Cobra? A lone scout? Or worse, someone from his past?

The lure led him deeper into the woods, across a shallow stream and up a rocky incline. He pursued for what felt like hours, his frustration mounting as the trail grew colder. Trap, his instincts screamed. Diversion. He turned back, racing through the underbrush with urgent speed. Branches whipped at his face, but he felt no pain—only dread. Scarlett. The team. He'd left them exposed.

Bursting back into the camp, the scene hit him like a physical blow. The fire was dying, embers scattering in the breeze. Duke lay face-down near the maps, a nasty bruise forming on his temple. Tunnel Rat was slumped against a tree, his tools scattered. Roadblock was on his back, chest rising and falling slowly, a dart protruding from his neck—tranquilizers, not lethal. But Scarlett's spot was empty. Her crossbow lay abandoned, bolts spilled like accusations.

Snake-Eyes' world narrowed to a pinpoint. He dropped to his knees beside Duke, shaking him roughly. The leader groaned, eyes fluttering open. "Snake... what—"

What happened? Snake-Eyes signed frantically, his hands a blur.

Duke sat up, wincing as he clutched his head. "Ambush. Came out of nowhere. White ninja... Storm Shadow. He took Scarlett."

The name hit Snake-Eyes like a blade to the gut. Storm Shadow—his former brother in the Arashikage clan, now a bitter enemy twisted by betrayal and vengeance. Storm Shadow blamed Snake-Eyes for everything, and now he'd struck at the heart. Snake-Eyes' eyes widened behind his visor, a surge of fury rising like bile. This was his fault. His past had caught up, and Scarlett was paying the price. She was the most important person in his life—his partner, his love—and now she was gone because he hadn't been there. He saw red, a haze of fury clouding his vision. This was his fault. He'd been lured away, leaving her vulnerable. The most important person in his life, snatched because of his past sins.

Frantically, he moved to the others. Tunnel Rat stirred as Snake-Eyes checked his pulse—strong, no internal damage. A quick slap to the face brought him around. "Ow! What the—Snake? Man, that ninja dude hit like a freight train. Where's Red?"

Roadblock rumbled awake next, his massive frame shaking off the daze. "Feels like I got hit by one too. Snake? What the—Scarlett! Where's Red?"

Duke filled them in, and the team noticed the change in Snake-Eyes immediately. He stood unnaturally still, like a coiled spring ready to explode. Anger radiated off him in waves, palpable even in his silence. His fists clenched, knuckles white beneath his gloves.

"Go get her, Snake," Duke said firmly, reading the turmoil in his comrade's posture. "Bring her back. We'll regroup here and cover your six if needed."

Tunnel Rat nodded. "Yeah, man. Storm Shadow's got no idea the hell he's unleashed. Bring our girl back. We'll hold the fort here"

Roadblock clapped a hand on Snake-Eyes' shoulder. "She's tough, but she needs you. Go."

Snake-Eyes gave a curt nod, his mind already mapping out the path. He mounted his motorcycle, the engine roaring to life like an extension of his rage. As he sped off into the night, guilt clawed at him. Every rev of the engine was a reminder: He'd been lured away, left her vulnerable. His history with the Arashikage clan, the blood feud—it all led to this. Scarlett, with her sharp wit and unyielding courage, didn't deserve this. He blamed himself entirely, the angst twisting like a knife in his gut. If he'd stayed, if he'd seen through the lure sooner... Scarlett was in danger because of him.  But rage overshadowed it now, a protective fire that propelled him forward. He would find her. And Storm Shadow would pay.

Miles away, in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of an industrial ghost town, Scarlett struggled against her bonds. Her wrists were tied to a rusted chair, the ropes biting into her skin. The ropes were expertly tied—Arashikage style—binding her wrists to the arms of a rusted metal chair. The place reeked of oil and decay, dust motes dancing in the beams of moonlight piercing through shattered windows.

Storm Shadow stood before her, his white garb pristine against the grimy surroundings. His eyes gleamed with malicious intent.

"You'll make excellent bait, O'Hara," he sneered, his voice smooth as silk but laced with venom. "Snake-Eyes cares for no one... except you. You're the key to drawing him out. The only person who can make him lose control."

Scarlett lifted her chin defiantly, ignoring the ache in her shoulders. "If you think kidnapping me will break him, you're wrong. Snake-Eyes is stronger than you know." She glared at him, her green eyes fierce. "You're delusional if you think this will end well for you, Storm Shadow. Snake-Eyes won't fall for your trap."

"Oh, but he will." Storm Shadow paced, his katana glinting in the dim light filtering through cracked windows. "Our clans' blood feud demands resolution. He betrayed me, and now I'll take from him what he values most."

She tugged at the ropes, hiding her fear behind defiance. "He's better than you. Always has been."

Storm Shadow chuckled darkly. "We'll see."

The distant rumble of a motorcycle echoed through the night, growing louder. Scarlett's heart leaped—hope mingled with dread. Storm Shadow's lips curled into a smile. "He's here."

The engine cut off outside, followed by silence. Then, the warehouse door creaked open, and Snake-Eyes stepped in. His posture screamed fury—shoulders tensed, steps deliberate and heavy. Scarlett had never seen him like this. He wasn't hiding his anger; it poured out of him, raw and unfiltered. He spotted Scarlett immediately, his visor scanning her for injuries, then locked onto Storm Shadow. Scarlett had never seen him this pissed; he wasn't masking it, wasn't holding back the emotion. His hands trembled slightly with rage, fists balled at his sides.

Storm Shadow turned, facing his rival. "Brother. So predictable. You come for her, as I knew you would."

Snake-Eyes didn't respond, didn't sign. His gaze locked on Scarlett first, assessing her condition, then shifted to Storm Shadow with lethal intent.

"I seek revenge," Storm Shadow continued, his monologue unfolding like a ritual. "For the clan, for the betrayal. Fight me, Snake-Eyes. Prove your worth, or watch her suffer."

Scarlett expected Snake-Eyes to try reasoning, to sign some plea for peace as he often did with his former kin. But shock rippled through her when he drew his katana in a flash, charging forward without hesitation. The clash of blades rang out, echoing in the vast emptiness.

The fight was brutal from the start. Snake-Eyes struck with ferocious speed, his sword a blur of silver. Storm Shadow parried, countering with elegant, precise strikes rooted in their shared Arashikage training. They circled each other, feet dancing over debris-strewn concrete. Snake-Eyes pressed the attack, his rage fueling every swing. A high slash aimed at Storm Shadow's shoulder, blocked; a low sweep at the legs, dodged with a graceful flip.

Blades met with a deafening ring, sparks flying as steel ground against steel. Snake-Eyes pressed the attack immediately, his strikes a whirlwind of anger-fueled precision. He swung high, aiming for Storm Shadow's neck—parried. A quick feint low, sweeping at the legs—Storm Shadow leaped over it, countering with a downward slash that Snake-Eyes blocked with his bracer, the impact jarring his arm. They circled, feet crunching on broken glass and debris.

Storm-Shadow lunged, his katana thrusting toward Snake-Eyes' midsection. Snake-Eyes sidestepped, riposting with a slash that grazed Storm Shadow's sleeve, tearing fabric. Storm Shadow retaliated with a spinning kick, catching Snake-Eyes in the ribs—pain flared, but he ignored it, grabbing Storm Shadow's leg and twisting, throwing him off balance.

Storm Shadow leaped back, assessing. "You're holding back, brother. Still clinging to that false honor?"

They disengaged momentarily, breathing heavy. Storm Shadow's eyes narrowed. "Pathetic. You fight like a man divided. Let me motivate you."

He glanced at Scarlett, a wicked gleam in his eye. In a fluid motion, he darted toward her, his knife flashing. The blade sliced across her arm, a shallow but painful cut. Blood welled up, and Scarlett screamed in agony, the sound piercing the air.

That scream shattered something in Snake-Eyes. Rage exploded within him, white-hot and all-consuming. He saw red—literally, his vision tunneling on Storm Shadow. Training be damned; emotions surged, overriding years of discipline. This was different. Scarlett was everything. He would break every moral, every vow, if it meant saving her.

With a silent roar, Snake-Eyes lunged. His attacks turned vicious, no longer measured but fueled by protective fury. He disarmed Storm Shadow's knife with a savage twist, sending it skittering across the floor. Storm Shadow countered with a punch to the ribs, cracking bone, but Snake-Eyes didn't flinch. He grabbed Storm Shadow's arm, twisting it behind his back, forcing him to drop his katana.

Storm Shadow grunted, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Finally, the beast awakens."

They grappled, rolling across the ground in a tangle of limbs. Storm Shadow landed a knee to Snake-Eyes' gut, drawing blood from a reopened wound. But Snake-Eyes powered through, pinning his foe with knees on his chest. He raised his fist, pummeling Storm Shadow's face—once, twice, three times. Blood smeared the white mask.

Storm Shadow gasped, shock in his eyes. "Such... violence. From you?"

The fight intensified, moving across the warehouse floor. Storm Shadow slashed horizontally, aiming to disembowel—Snake-Eyes ducked, countering with an upward thrust that Storm Shadow barely dodged. A kick to the chest sent Storm Shadow stumbling into a stack of crates, wood splintering. He recovered, throwing shurikens—Snake-Eyes deflected two with his blade, the third grazing his thigh, tearing fabric and skin.

Pain fueled the rage further. Snake-Eyes closed the distance, disarming Storm Shadow's katana with a twisting parry that sent the sword flying. Now hand-to-hand, it was brutal. Storm Shadow landed a palm strike to Snake-Eyes' chest, cracking a rib. Snake-Eyes responded with an elbow to the face, followed by a knee to the gut. They grappled, rolling across the concrete, fists flying. Snake-Eyes pinned Storm Shadow, pummeling his face—left hook, right cross, blood smearing.

Snake-Eyes drew a hidden dagger, pressing it to Storm Shadow's throat. He wanted to end it, to kill the man who'd dared touch Scarlett. Vengeance burned in his veins.

"No! Snake-Eyes, stop!" Scarlett's voice cut through the haze. "This isn't you! Don't kill him!"

Her words anchored him, pulling him from the abyss. He froze, dagger trembling. God, he wanted to. For taking his girlfriend, for hurting her. But her words pulled him back. He lowered the blade, slamming Storm Shadow's head against the concrete instead, knocking him out cold. Storm Shadow lay there, dazed and defeated, stunned by the ferocity and how Scarlett had halted it.

Snake-Eyes rose, sheathing his weapons. He rushed to Scarlett, slicing through her bonds with precise cuts. She stood, but her legs wobbled from shock and blood loss. Without a word, he scooped her up bridal-style, cradling her protectively against his chest. She buried her face in his neck, safe at last.

He carried her out, leaving Storm Shadow behind. The motorcycle ride back was tense, Scarlett clinging to him as wind whipped past.

Hours later, in a safe house tucked away in the woods—a nondescript cabin the Joes used as a fallback—Snake-Eyes set Scarlett down gently on a cot. The team was there, having relocated after the ambush. When they saw Snake-Eyes return with Scarlett in his arms, they knew better than to interfere. Duke gave a nod. "Take care of her, Snake. We'll stand watch."

Tunnel Rat and Roadblock exchanged glances, giving them space.

He fetched the med kit, cleaning the arm wound with antiseptic—stinging, but thorough. She winced, but he was gentle, wrapping it in fresh bandages. Bruises on her arms got ice packs; scrapes got ointment. Snake-Eyes worked obsessively, checking every inch of her for wounds. The cut on her arm was the worst, but he inspected bruises, scrapes, even her wrists from the ropes. He cleaned the knife wound meticulously—antiseptic sting, gauze wrap, all with gentle hands that belied his earlier rage.

Scarlett reached for a gash on his cheek from the fight. "Snake, you're hurt too. Let me—"

He shook his head, signing No. You first. Always you. Guilt gnawed at him, visible in his tense posture.

Once patched, she cupped his face. "Snake-Eyes, look at me."

He hesitated, then removed his mask completely, revealing scarred features and haunted eyes.

"This isn't your fault," she said softly. "No one to blame but Storm Shadow."

I'm sorry, he signed, hands shaking. I should have protected you.

She pulled him into an embrace. "You did. You saved me." She kissed his cheek, his forehead, his lips—soft, reassuring. 

He held her tight, vowing silently: He wouldn't let it happen again. Ever.

Model references for SxS (Akito Shinonome) - Project Sekai: Colorful Stage!

Seifer/Squall, Explicit, Unfinished, HEAVY FUCKING ANGST

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13513371/chapters/30993993

when fics on ao3 have 500K+ words and less than 30k hits, you know theyre seriously fucking underrated. this fic is my new post-FF8 canon man.

it goes into crazy depth on seifer’s trauma and his subsequent healing journey after running into squall 2 years post-war. pretty graphic violent imagery, heavy heavy angst, does discuss non-con and sexual assault (not between sxs), but main pairing is characterised so realistically. seifer starts off a hedonistic playboy who really needs therapy but he’s down bad for squall the second squall walks back into his life. they both change for the better!! they both make each other want to be better!!!!!!!! god i love reading relationships with huge fuckin growth

this fic will make u question everything about canon with how realistic the worldbuilding is😭😭it’s the longest sxs fic on AO3 😭😭 but it’s so worth the read.