The Cupcake Connection vs The Divine Stars - Having your cake and eating it

[Satanica]

The impact.

The *sound* of Nate's cheek meeting the unforgiving leather. It wasn't just a physical blow, it was a symphony of release for Louise. A tidal wave of pure, unadulterated satisfaction crashed over her, a heady mix of sweet triumph and the cleansing rush of pent-up rage. The simmering resentment, of feeling sidelined and dismissed by the Divine Stars had finally found their outlet. The guilt, the constant nagging voice of decorum, the need to be "one of the good girls"—all of it crumbled in that instant. She could practically taste the sweet nectar of retribution, the victory long denied, now finally within her grasp.

Louise, the rebellious firecracker of the Cupcakes, the one who always danced on the edge of chaos, felt a primal thrill course through her veins. While the others played by the rules, she embraced the beautiful, brutal poetry of the fight. Polly, her friend, her partner, the anchor to her wild spirit, had been cornered, subjected to Nate's calculated cruelty, and the sight ignited a firestorm within Louise.

This wasn't just a match; it was a declaration. A statement.

"Tag me! NOW!" Her voice, usually playful and teasing, sliced through the arena, sharp and demanding. She was a blur of motion, a whirlwind of focused energy as she sprinted toward her corner.

The referee, caught in the swirling chaos, offered a momentary distraction.

Polly, seizing the opening, scrambled to her shakey feet, her eyes meeting Louise’s in a silent understanding: it was time.

TAG!

The roar of the crowd, the deafening chants of "Cupcakes! Cupcakes!" - they were a soundtrack to her vengeance.

Louise launched herself into the fray, a predator unleashed. Her eyes locked onto Nate, who was still dazed. A uncharacteristic cruel smile stretched her lips as she charged towards him, a whirlwind of righteous fury, boot raised high at the right moment, ready to deliver a brutal curb stomp to the back of his arrogant stupid head.

Vision narrowed to that one target. The air crackled with her intent, a palpable force surrounding her.

"Eat this, you rotten beefcake!" Her voice, raw and laced with venom, was a promise.

Her plan solidified in her mind, a dark symphony of calculated moves. If they succeeded...

...The curb stomp to stun, to buy her precious seconds...

...Then, if the moment was right, a devastating Boston Crab!

Nate might be sprawling, vulnerable, his meticulously sculpted physique stretched taut. If so, Louise would step over him, she would bend down and grab his thick legs, the grip under her armpits secure, and then, sit down on his lower back. Louise wanted to bend him, hauling his body into a painful C shape. Sure, Nate was right at the ropes. A simple gesture to grasp the plastic coated cables and have the referee order a break. Added to which, Nate was far too heavy to drag to the centre of the canvas, this would have to do.

Louise's gaze fell to the opposite corner. The referee was about to turn back to look at the wrestlers in the ring.

As she settled, her mind counted the precious seconds.

All of her moves from this point on would become a gamble, a calculated risk against the imposing frame of her opponent. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins, a roaring torrent of power and precision. This was the eye of the storm. Pure concentration. Every muscle, every nerve ending focused on the task at hand.

Nate's defeat.

Then, the jeers. Oh the jeers! The enraged bleating of the audience. The shouts of protest. The whistles.

The crowd, a sea of judgment, their voices a dissonant chorus of condemnation. Their chants, a desperate attempt to derail her, to warn the official. To alert the hawk-eyed Kate to the ruthlessness lurking beneath the sugary façade of the Cupcakes.

Louise would yank on the tree trunk muscle legs of Nate. Her mind defiant. Let them be shocked. Let them scream. This was her moment. And she wouldn't let them take it away.

[Person]

Nate was now on the ground, still holding onto the ropes. He would shake his head, attempting to regain his senses. The match was still early, so it was going to take a lot more than this to keep him down. He also couldn't let Kate down as well. Well, he had done some damage to Polly so it's not like she would be able to hit with the most devastating moves but that is when he heard her call for a tag. He would then hear the tag and the crowd roar, realizing what was going on. If Louise got to him, he would be in trouble. Pulling on the rope, he would attempt to make his way towards the corner and try to tag in Kate.

He would pull forward and start making some progress before he heard an insult thrown at him. Kate would stretch out her hand, telling him to quickly tag her so she could get in. He would look up, and see Kate at the corner offering her hand but before he could get to her or even process the insult thrown at him, the blonde wrestler would then feel something land on the back of his head as the ground suddenly came closer. His vision would go black as his face was planted right into the canvas, causing him to once again be stunned again. The crowd would roar at the sight, happy to see such a brutal move.

Kate on the other hand was furious, annoyed at how the foul play had led to this. She needed to come up with a plan. The female Greek wrestler would start going over possible ideas on what to do. One was to simply stay in her corner and be ready for a tag-in. Another was that she could attempt to attack Polly, in a way to distract Louise and give Nate a chance to recover. Another possibility was that she could attempt to enter the ring again, getting the attention of both Louise and the referee. Though already having recently gotten in trouble, she didn't want to risk a disqualification. She needed to bide her time at the moment and stay put, ready to tag in.

Nate who at the moment was utterly out of it, would still feel his legs being grabbed before feeling the weight of his opponent on his back. The Greek wrestler would then be bent and placed in a C-like shape. He would let out a howl of pain, as his eyes widened from the Boston crab that was currently being applied on him. Luckily for the male wrestler, he was right at the ropes and would grab onto them for a much-needed rope break. Nate would just then need to endure the pain for a few more seconds and would then be freed. Still, those few seconds would be hell, each second doing more and more damage to his back. Kate on the other hand would tell the referee to do her job and order a rope break, stating that Nate was clearly holding the ropes.

[Satanica]

The bright lights of the arena cast an ethereal glow around Louise, illuminating her almost victorious expression as she reveled in the thrill of her unexpected triumph. She felt good—no, she felt euphoric. The adrenaline coursed through her veins like wildfire, fueling a fire of pride that was hard to quench. It was a moment that had seemed impossible mere weeks ago, but here she was, grappling Nate, who had once made even the toughest opponents tremble. Each breath she took felt like a victory chant, echoing deep within her, a reminder of her strength.

Nate’s muscular legs felt like dead weight beneath her grip. She couldn’t help but marvel at the irony of the situation; the mammoth figure, a sculpted beast who usually moved with the speed and agility of a panther, was now nothing more than a pawn in her game. A hundred pounds of determination—a hundred pounds of heart—had outmaneuvered a formidable opponent. She glanced at Polly, who lay on the ring apron, her small frame still, lost to the world. Louise hoped her friend knew how hard she was fighting, hoped she could feel the spirit of their bond surging through her, giving her strength.

With a fierce yank, Louise intensified the strain, knowing full well the stakes.

Sure, the odds were stacked against her; the Divine Stars were waiting with bated breath for any hint of weakness in their opponent.

The referee, with a stern expression, began her countdown, and Louise could feel the pressure mounting, both on her grip and in her chest. The voice of the referee cut through the tension like a knife. “Break the hold, one… two…” Each number felt like a countdown to doom, but Louise detached herself from that worry, focusing instead on the moment. The crowd was alive, their boos thrumming in her ears like a heartbeat, each boo and jeer a testament to her audacity, feeding her bravado even more.

“Three… four…”

With a dramatic flourish, she let go and raised her hands in mock surrender, a triumphant smile plastered across her face as she stepped back. Sure, she knew she had played a dangerous game, and in doing so, had potentially opened the floodgates for retaliation, but in that moment, she reveled in her own rebellion against the rules.

"When did I become the villain?" she wondered as she strolled around the ring, savoring the energy of the baying crowd. Excitement bubbled in her chest, her heart racing with every step. Approaching Kate, who could be forgiven for fuming on the sidelines, she couldn’t help but lean into the chaos that surrounded her.

“Your boyfriend isn’t that tough,” she teased, her voice dripping with confidence as she stared into Kate’s eyes. It felt good; the thrill of taunting a formidable opponent coursed through her. “Makes me wonder how easy you'll be to beat.”

Louise was riding high on her bravado, shrugging off the potential backlash. She embraced her role as ‘heel of heels.’ She felt on the brink of something greater—a transformation, perhaps, from unassuming newbie to fierce contender. Arrogance danced on the edge of her words as she stepped closer to Kate, refusing to back down.

“Why don’t you get in here and let’s see what you can do?” Louise poked Kate’s chest playfully, relishing the moment she was creating—one filled with tension, uncertainty, but also exhilaration. The crowd roared, their excitement palpable, and for the first time, Louise felt as though she was a true player in this violent ballet. She had crossed a line, maybe even signed a pact with chaos, yet she welcomed it with open arms. Flaunting the ridiculous, blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing.

Louise hadn't considered that Kate could easily slap the smug grin off Louise’s face and turn this match back to the side of the Heavenly duo.