Veronika Váradi vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - Cause and Effect

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Submission
Victory Conditions: Submission Only

***

One month.

Army had only been with LAW for one month so far, maybe a few days shy of it, and already, he’d found himself getting into some dumb shit. It had been a good experience so far; overall, I met some old friends, made some new ones, and generally got into the vibe of the whole place. He was digging it for 90%. He didn’t have any doubts that coming here was the right move, and a great way to restart his pro wrestling career.

But there always had to be a little hitch. A fly in the ointment. Today’s fly had a name, too: Veronika Váradi.

Even now, as he made his way down the ramp with his

https://youtu.be/0bLEzeW5CJQ?si=jfzRqb418-75JxkA

playing, the whole scenario was grinding his gears. Just minding his own business, training in the gym, and along Veronika with her whole innocent act. They’d played around, had a little roll around, started out fun, and the next thing he knew? Knocked out three times. Three times. It was a miracle he didn’t get brain damage off that crap. And, near as he could tell, he’d done absolutely nothing to deserve it. Just a wrong place, wrong time thing.

Well, fuck that. Army had done this dance long enough to know where this sort of thing would go if he let it run unchecked. If he didn’t put his foot down and show he wasn’t one to be screwed with, he’d be dealing with people like Veronika all through his career, jumping on him just to make a quick name for themselves or get off.

She’d had her fun off him, made him tap. Now it was her turn.

Army made his way to the ring, slid in through the bottom rope, and promptly popped to his feet, rising quickly with his feet bouncing. He quickly made his way to his corner as the music died down, doing some light shadowboxing, staying loose and lucid as he waited for his opponent.

[Weonna]

The arena lights bled into crimson as "Black Widow" by Burning Witches roared to life through the speakers.

Spoiler

A wave of red and black pulsed across the screen above the ramp, Veronika’s logo—her eight-legged emblem of control—unfurling like a sigil of dread. Fog crept along the stage as red spotlight beams formed a webbed pattern down the aisle.



Then she appeared.

Veronika Váradi, in all her dark glory.

Clad in a tight, black, glossy halter top that crisscrossed across her chest, paired with matching black shorts that clung to every contour of her toned thighs, she radiated both strength and allure. Knee-high black boots echoed against the steel ramp as she sauntered forward, her hips swaying with deliberate rhythm. Her fingerless gloves flexed as she moved—and on her thigh, unmistakable in the spotlight, the ominous black spider tattoo.

Veronika Váradi

She offered the crowd a soft wave and a little wink—sweet on the surface, but her eyes were locked on Army in the ring. A playful smirk touched her lips, her expression impossibly innocent for someone who had knocked him out three times not long ago.

“Oh, Coach~,”

she cooed playfully as she reached ringside, voice just loud enough for him to hear over the guitars.

“You came back. So brave.”

She ascended the steps slowly, one leg at a time, letting the lights catch the gleam of her glossy gear. Then she turned her back to the ropes, dipped low between them with deliberate grace, and entered the ring.

A twirl.

A pose.

Then she walked right to the center of the mat, planted her hands on her hips, and cocked her head with a mischievous grin.

“Hope you stretched,”

she said quietly—just loud enough for him to hear.

“Because I brought new tricks this time…”

She backed into her corner with slow, deliberate steps, never breaking eye contact. Not once. She didn't need to start the match.

She just needed him to step into the web.

[BlackAkuma]

God damn, Army wished Veronika were ugly. He wished she had a bad haircut, that she short and dumpy, that she had crooked teeth and smelled like old motor oil. He wished she was every physical trait that he found attractive in a woman, because if she was, it would make this so much easier, and he wouldn’t be thinking about how hot the woman he wanted to beat into submission was.

But, no, she had to go and wreck that by being one of the hottest women he’d come across since he came to LAW, and while that was a relatively small fraction of the whole, the competition was still fierce. She was a combination of a lot of traits that drove him wild - slim, fit, excellent body, not afraid to show it off, smart and capable and a little funny. Hell, the fact that she could beat him up was a plus. His best relationships had been with women who could hold their own against him in the ring.

But she had to go and ruin that amazing package by being crazy as fuck. Damn shame.

At least her taste in music wasn’t too bad, he could get down with speed metal. He found himself bobbing along with her as she made her entrance, full of doom and gloom, going for the full spectacle. Made him feel a little blasé for just marching down to the ring with no fanfare. He’d had to workshop that.

Army watched as he came her way and said her peace, throwing a few taunts his way. His brow furrowed, but he got himself under control soon enough. Mostly. ”Yeah, you’re funny. Real funny.” He rolled his shoulders. ”Gonna be even funnier when you’re on your back and you can’t even remember your name. Vee.”

The referee looked between them, making sure the tit for tat was done, then called for the bell to kick off the match. Given the way their last encounter went, he’d bet of Veronika expecting a slow start, thinking he would play it safe, knowing how dangerous she was.

Nope. He charged in, headlong, not even wasting a second after the bell. He brought his guard up tight, jolted into her range, and let three swift jabs fly, targeting her face with each one, advancing as he attacked, determined to push her back and dominate the space.

[Weonna]

The second the bell rang, Veronika’s playful smirk didn’t falter—but her eyes sharpened. That glint of mischief faded into something colder.

She should know this man by now.

She had studied him the moment she laid eyes on him in the gym weeks ago, not just admiring his physique—but tracking how he moved, how he attacked, how he defended. Boxer. Heavy-handed. Forward pressure. He wanted to brawl, to impose, to break her down piece by piece until she was nothing left.

So when Army came charging in—she was ready.

His fist flew at her face in a blur, but Veronika’s hands came up quick, forearms crossing to shield her cheek. The first jab thudded against her guard. The second caught her shoulder. The third—solid contact on her forearm. Clean, efficient, sharp.

And they did exactly what they were meant to do—back her up.

Her boots slid across the mat as she retreated step-by-step, her back nearing the ropes. Her defense was tight, but the pressure was real. Army was pressing forward like a storm, and his reach advantage gave him just enough range to keep her off-balance.

But Veronika wasn’t panicking. Not at all.

She smiled through the shell of her guard. Not big. Just a knowing curl of her lips.

He was playing his game.

Exactly what she expected.

And like any spider, she was patient—willing to give ground to lure the prey deeper.

[BlackAkuma]

Veronica was smiling.

Army did not like the fact that she was smiling.

Though they’d only met one time, he figured he’d gotten a decent enough idea of what she was like and how she rolled, enough to get an idea of her style. She was smart, skilled, and sadistic, making for a bad mix. But, worst of all? She was confident. She didn’t know Army when she came into that gym; she didn’t know what he was like or what he could do, but she had faith in herself to step into that ring and mess around with him.

So, if she was smiling now, as he came her way with a full frontal assault and his punches came dangerously close to making their mark, it meant the same thing it meant back then - she had a plan. There was a way she expected this to go, and his challenge was to figure it out before it was too late.

He wasn’t going to discover it hanging back, though, so he continued to advance. It was working about the way he wanted so far, putting her back up against the rope. Yeah, she was still smiling, but that wouldn’t make him back. Let her smile all the way to the ground.

He stepped in with another jab, but instead of trying to connect with it, he pulled back halfway - a feint, drawing her attention to one side while the real danger come from the other. Army jerked right, extended his arm out, and lunged towards her as he fired off a powerful right hook, aiming at the smiling face of her with one of his best punches.

[Weonna]

Veronika saw it—the shift in Army’s weight, the slight twitch in his shoulder, the tightening of his knuckles just before he committed to the strike. A feint followed by a real attack. Smart. Real Smart...

However just as his full-force right hook came flying toward her jaw, Veronika ducked low and rolled out beneath the bottom rope, letting his punch sail through empty air. The force of it whipped past her hair as she dropped to the floor outside, landing on her feet with a soft thud against the mats.

The crowd groaned in frustration.

Army’s punch had been big—very big—and everyone in the arena knew it could’ve turned the match around in seconds. But Veronika had slipped out like smoke between fingers.

She turned around just outside the ring and gave a coy little wave, stepping back from the apron with her gloved hands raised innocently.

The referee started the count.

“One!”

Veronika paced, stretching her arms, flashing a little yawn before flicking her eyes back up at Army. She smiled again—that smile. The one that said I’m in control.

“Two!”

“Come on, Coach,”

she called sweetly, loud enough for the nearest mic to catch.

“You want me so badly? Come get me~.”

“Three!”

“Four!”

Veronika walked halfway around the ring—then suddenly slid back in under the ropes.

But before the referee could even get a word out, she immediately rolled back out the other side.

Reset.

The crowd’s boos rose now, louder and unified. She heard them and she loved them.

She walked back away from the apron with her arms outstretched, as if inviting Army to come after her. Her expression stayed light.

[BlackAkuma]

One punch. Army only needed one solid punch to put Veronika down. He doubted she would make it easy for him - no doubt, she had some crazy tricks up her sleeve. But if he could make it hard for her to spring that trap, than it wouldn’t matter much. That the game they were playing - him, looking for the solid blow that could end this in an instant, while she tried to wrap him up and force him into another submission off.

As impossible as it was to imagine, it seemed like he was close to making that a reality in record time, too. Her back was up against the ropes, perfectly vulnerable, he swung back, lashing out, and-

Gone.

Army nearly fell forward as Veronika flipped out of the ring, deftly avoiding his blow in a show of acrobatic finesse. By the time he regained his poise, she was already standing outside of the ring, looking up at with that wide, knowing smile of hers. And she stayed there, too. Watching. Waiting. Annoying the fuck out of him.

”Oh, come on, lady…” He folded his arms and groaned as she made her way around the ring, making a show out of it all and drawing a few boos from the crowd. Tempting as it was to follow her out there, he wasn’t quite so stupid. She wasn’t about to spoil her fun with a countout, she’d come in.

Sure enough, she did just that…and rolled back in again, to reset the count. ”Oh, come on!”

Veronika was going to be like, then? Fine. Army took a couple of steps back, then dashed towards her side of the ring and slid out on the floor with arms up tight, guarding - he didn’t know what she would try when he got outside, but at least he would have some defenses ready for it.

[Weonna]

Veronika predicted him coming the moment he took those first angry steps.

She had been circling slowly around the outside of the ring, arms out, inviting, baiting—daring him to give chase. The crowd’s boos washed over her like a warm bath, but her attention never left Army. She saw the tension in his frame, the frustration building behind those fists, and the moment he slid out of the ring to meet her—

She turned and bolted.

With feline speed, Veronika pivoted on her heel and slid right back into the ring, slipping under the bottom rope like smoke. She popped up to her feet and spun around, already grinning from ear to ear, her arms outstretched like she was welcoming him into a trap she’d been spinning all along.

“Oops,”

her lips mouthed, silently and mock-sweet.

The crowd groaned again—some laughed, others booed—but Veronika just dropped into a ready stance and waited. Daring him to come back in.

If he hesitated, she’d stand relaxed, leaning back into the ropes like she had all the time in the world.

But if he came in—that was her moment.

As soon as Army would roll in under the ropes, Veronika pounced, sprinting forward and stomping down on his back with sharp, punishing boots. One, two, three—relentless shots to slow him down and keep him grounded before he could rise.

Then she backed off, gave him a half-second to stumble to his feet, and snatched his wrist.

With a swift yank and a spin, she whipped him toward the opposite ropes, using his own momentum to send him rebounding back.

Army rebounded with power, but Veronika was ready. She met him in the middle, slid low, and executed an armdrag, flipping him to the mat.

She kept the wrist as Veronika flowed into the follow-up, slipping around behind him as he sat up, still stunned. She dropped to one knee, draped his arm across her right shoulder, then sat in deep behind him, one leg posted for support as she yanked his arm back, grinding it across the shelf of her shoulder.

Grounded shoulder armbar.

Spoiler

[BlackAkuma]

The way Army figured, only one of two things was going to happen when he came out of the ring - Veronika would either try to cheapshot him while he was still recovering, or she would get back into the ring. Either was likely, but he leaned towards the former, since she specialized in submissions, and those were only good when she went inside the ring.

But he didn’t have much choice - he had to spring the trap. So he came rushing out of the ring, landed on his feet and-

Gone. Again.

Army spun about, and sure enough, he found her back in the ring, smiling down at him with that Cheshire grin. He let out a loud groan, threw his head back and rolled his eyes. ”Seriamente, are you trying to be the most annoying person in LAW? ‘Cause it’s working!”

He was tempted to play her own little game and stay outside, too, but he knew that wasn’t too likely to work - she would probably be fine just staying in there and letting him take the loss, knowing it would piss him off. He grumbled under his breath, waited for the referee to reach the third count, then shrugged and dashed into the ring at full speed.

She was ready. Before he could rise, he was greeted by stomps - one, two, three, hammering him hard on the back, bouncing him against the canvas. That, by itself, wasn’t too bad, he’d taken worse, but it left him stunned enough for what she really wanted.

Army pushed his way up, only for her to seize him and send him off running in the next moment, forcing him to dash for the ropes, he bounced off, stumbled her way, and found himself caught as she spun about him and brought him crashing to the canvas, securing an armbar in the process.

Submission bullshit. Fuck.

Army gritted his teeth and squirmed in the hold, doing his best to find a comfortable position with no real luck. He didn’t bother to look up her way, but he was sure she was smiling. ”Not a minute in and this shit’s already getting old, Vee.”

[Weonna]

She smirked as Army squirmed, his frustration music to her ears.

Without a word, Veronika shifted sideways, never letting go of his wrist. In one fluid motion, she threaded her legs around his arm, locking it between her thighs. Then-

SNAP

she clamped down hard, locking in the short-arm scissors.

His arm twisted unnaturally, shoulder stretched tight as she cranked back, boots braced against the mat.

Spoiler