Aya Al-Amari vs. Angela Belti - My Generation

[BlackAkuma]

Angela might’ve made it look easy, but in truth, hefting Aya up like this was no small task. For starters, her leg was still hurting from the damage that had been done to it a moment ago. Aya wasn’t heavy, but even so, the pain made lifting her a more arduous task than it should’ve been, by a large margin. There was also the fact that Aya refused to go gently into that goodnight, and made sure to pummel her every inch of the way.

The smaller woman rained down shot after shot on her skull, even got in a few scratches on her skull, but Angela powered through it, knowing whatever pain she was about to take would pale in comparison to what she was about to dish.

She was right. Painfully right, as Aya found out. While she couldn't see the impact, she heard it loud enough, and the crowd’s collective gasps told the story, along with her own daughter’s commentary. [color=#ff80000]”Shit, Mom!”[/color]

”Language, Dizzy!” Angela threw out that quick chastisement as she rolled over and roughly pushed her way, grabbing the ring apron for support. She didn’t know what number the referee was on, and it hardly mattered. They needed to get in the ring, first priority.

Angela reached, lifted Aya up like she was carrying a bride through the threshold, and unceremoniously hurled the woman back in the ring under the bottom rope. She threw herself in a moment later and flopped over to her back, where she promptly stayed for a moment to catch her breath.

[Delalily]

The pain from the drop was sharp, a searing reminder of the toll this match was taking on her body. Aya’s vision blurred for a moment as she struggled to regain her senses, her back still screaming from the impact against the ring apron. Before she could fully gather herself, she felt Angela’s strong hands grip her, lifting her effortlessly and rolling her back into the ring under the bottom rope. The crowd roared, their excitement palpable as both women narrowly avoided a countout loss.

Aya lay sprawled on the mat for a brief moment, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. Her body ached, every muscle protesting the punishment she’d endured. But pride and determination burned hotter than the pain. Slowly, she began to rise, her movements deliberate as she crawled toward the ropes, using them as support to pull herself up. Her fingers clenched the top rope, her knuckles whitening as she steadied herself, her legs trembling but holding firm.

With a fierce glint in her eyes, Aya turned to face Angela, who was still lying on the mat, recovering from the brutal exchange. Aya raised her chin, her stance defiant, and pointed directly at her opponent. “Get up!” she demanded, her voice cutting through the noise of the crowd. “Only one of us walks out of this ring victorious, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be you!”

[BlackAkuma]

Being big had many advantages, but no small number of drawbacks, either. Angela was discovering a big one in her growing years: once she went down, it could be hard for her to ever get back up.

Doubly so when she had taken a pummeling like the one Aya had been giving her. Her body was aching in places that she had forgotten it could ache, and she was still rattled from that uppercut she’d taken. Her jaw felt loose in an unnerving way, and she’d likely have to see someone about it in the near future.

She ground her teeth and looked to the side, where she saw Aya trying to rise nearby, using the ropes for support. Angela breathed deeply and made to do the same, groaning as her bones creaked in protest. Sleep was going to be painful tonight, but she looked forward to it, regardless.

”You’re half right.” Not much of a comeback, but Angela wasn’t in the most creative mood. Instead, she focused on the attack, as she planted one foot in front of the other, gaining speed as she crossed the ring. As soon as she was close, she lunged out, swung her arm wide, and attempted to clock her foe in the face with an elbow, throwing her body into the blow for some extra force.

[Delalily]

Sensing the elbow incoming, Aya quickly sidestepped, her body a golden blur of motion as Angela’s swing whiffed wildly past her. The momentum of Angela’s strike left her slightly off balance, her recovery just a fraction too slow. Aya’s eyes narrowed, her focus sharpening as she saw the opening she’d been waiting for. This was it—her moment to end it all.

With a precision, Aya clenched her fist tightly as she drew her arm back. Every muscle in her body taut as she began to shift her weight forward. Aya's arm shot out like a piston, fist aimed directly at Angela’s jaw—a perfectly timed Superman Punch meant to leave her opponent crumpled on the mat. The move was swift, brutal, and executed with the kind of flawless technique that had made Aya a feared competitor.

Her fist sliced through the air, the force behind it undeniable. Aya’s expression was one of grim determination, her gaze locked on Angela with unwavering intensity. This was her signature, her defining moment, and she wasn’t about to let it go to waste. The impact, when it came, would be devastating—a resounding exclamation point on a match that would end in her complete victory.

[Delalily]

Sensing the elbow incoming, Aya quickly sidestepped, her body a golden blur of motion as Angela’s swing whiffed wildly past her. The momentum of Angela’s strike left her slightly off balance, her recovery just a fraction too slow. Aya’s eyes narrowed, her focus sharpening as she saw the opening she’d been waiting for. This was it—her moment to end it all.

With a precision, Aya clenched her fist tightly as she drew her arm back. Every muscle in her body taut as she began to shift her weight forward. Aya's arm shot out like a piston, fist aimed directly at Angela’s jaw—a perfectly timed Superman Punch meant to leave her opponent crumpled on the mat. The move was swift, brutal, and executed with the kind of flawless technique that had made Aya a feared competitor.

Her fist sliced through the air, the force behind it undeniable. Aya’s expression was one of grim determination, her gaze locked on Angela with unwavering intensity. This was her signature, her defining moment, and she wasn’t about to let it go to waste. The impact, when it came, would be devastating—a resounding exclamation point on a match that would end in her complete victory.

[BlackAkuma]

And this was why Angela did her homework.

Her elbow shot out, and for a fierce second, time seemed to slow. She couldn't see Aya, but Angela could tell there was a wide chasm for the next attack to sneak through, a hole that her foe would happily fill. With what? The perfect move for someone like her, who thrived on striking people from unorthodox angles when it was least expected.

But Angela was ready. As she turned, she was already beginning to dip, and sure enough, she found that her opponent was already rushing in to meet her. There would only be one chance to get this right, one moment to pull this off.

She moved in and caught Aya on her shoulders once more, this time facing towards her. From there, she stood tall, gripped Aya by the hem of her outfit, and lifted her high, holding her as high as possible and maybe giving her a small wedgie in the process. Unintentional. It tended to happen with this move.

Up she went, then down she came, as Angela executed her finishing move,

, driving her into the canvas with a resonating crash, as Angela gave her all the power she could spare. As soon as Aya was flat, she moved in, laid across her chest, pulled the leg in and went for the pinfall, making sure to press down with all of her weight as she did.

[Delalily]

Aya’s fist tore through the air, her Superman Punch aimed with lethal precision. But Angela was no longer there. The larger woman had anticipated the move, ducking beneath it with surprising agility for someone of her size. Before Aya could recover, she felt Angela’s hands latch onto her gear, lifting her off the mat like a sack of flour. The crowd roared as Aya was hoisted high, her feet dangling helplessly above the canvas.

The realization hit her hard—Angela was setting up for her finisher. Aya’s stomach lurched as she was held aloft, the world spinning around her. She struggled desperately, kicking and flailing, but Angela’s grip was ironclad. There was no escape.

Gravity took hold as Angela moved her arms forward, driving Aya back-first into the mat with bone-jarring force. The impact reverberated through the arena, a sickening crunch that left Aya sprawled flat on her back, her body limp and unresponsive. Her vision blurred, her lungs gasped for air, but her limbs refused to cooperate. She was out.

Aya After Last Dance

For a brief moment, Aya’s mind fought against the reality closing in on her. Her body felt heavy, her limbs unresponsive, as if every ounce of strength had been drained from her. The pain in her back and chest throbbed dully, a distant ache compared to the fog clouding her thoughts. Her vision blurred, the harsh lights above the ring blending into a hazy glow.

The sound of Kimi and Kuni’s voices pierced through the haze, sharp and frantic. “Mom, get up!” “You can’t let her win!” Their shouts echoed in her ears, virtually indistinguishable, but they sounded far away, like they were muffled by a thick wall. Aya tried to move, to push herself off the mat, but her arms refused to obey. Her fingers twitched uselessly against the canvas, her legs leaden and uncooperative.

She wanted to answer them, to tell them she wasn’t done, but her lips barely parted, her breath shallow and ragged. The world around her seemed to slow, the noise of the crowd fading into a dull hum. The last thing she heard was Kimi’s voice, strained and desperate, pleading for her to fight back. But it was no use. Her body had nothing left to give. The darkness crept in at the edges of her vision, swallowing her whole as the cold, hard truth settled over her: she had been bested.

Angela wasted no time, collapsing across Aya’s chest for the pinfall. ONE! TWO! THREE!

The bell rang, signaling the end of the match. Aya’s body lay motionless, her strength totally spent, her pride shattered as the crowd erupted in cheers.

[BlackAkuma]

One. Two. Three.

For a pro wrestler, those had to be the three greatest words in the dictionary. With possible competitions from ‘I’ and ‘Quit’.

Angela was a writer herself, but she honestly couldn't put into words the euphoria that came over her when that hand hit the mat for the third time. She couldn't remember the last time a match had tested her like this. Even in her prime, she’d tried to avoid dragging things out into extended brawls, knowing how much of a toll it could take on a body like hers. She wasn’t meant for this sort of combat on her best days, and her best days were far behind her.

But she’d won. Somehow. Someway. She’d won.

As soon as the bell rang Angela flopped back on the canvas, arms wide, and sucked in the biggest gulp of air her lungs could handle. Her skin tingled, her body ached in places she’d forgotten it could, and she would be thinking about Aya every time she tried to bite with her aching jaw for weeks…but despite all that, she managed a smile, even though it hurt to do so. This was the sort of match she’d come to LAW for, in the first place. Ask, and ye shall receive.

She had nothing but respect for the woman she’d just fought, She would tell her as much, too, in a moment. Before that, a tradition had to be observed.

Angela rolled over, grabbed the nearest rope, and used them for support as she rose to her feet. She could see Dizzy outside the ring, aching to get inside and congratulate her, but she was familiar enough with her mother’s wrestling customs to stand back for a second. She nodded her way, then turned towards the crowd and brought her fist high in the sky, striking her classic victory pose.

”VITTORIA!”

[Delalily]

As Angela struck her victory pose, Aya lay motionless on the mat, her chest rising and falling shallowly as she struggled to regain consciousness. The crowd’s cheers were deafening, but for Aya, the world was a muffled blur of pain and exhaustion. Her body felt like it had been put through a wringer, every muscle screaming in protest. The taste of defeat was bitter on her tongue, but it was the ache in her bones that demanded her attention the most.

Kimi and Kuni wasted no time, sliding into the ring with urgency as the referee stepped aside to let them tend to their mother. Kimi dropped to her knees beside Aya, her hands hovering nervously as she assessed the damage. Kuni crouched on the other side, her brow furrowed with concern. “Mom?” Kimi’s voice trembled, her usual confidence shaken. “Can you hear us?”

Aya’s eyelids fluttered, and she let out a low groan as consciousness slowly returned. Her vision swam as she tried to focus, the bright lights overhead blinding. “I’m… fine,” she managed to rasp, though her voice lacked its usual fire. “Just… give me a minute.”

Kimi reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Aya’s face, while Kuni placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You’re okay,” Kuni reassured her, though her own voice wavered slightly. “You fought like hell out there.”

Aya winced as she tried to shift her weight, her back protesting violently. “Don’t… help me up,” she murmured, her words strained. “Just… let me lie here for a bit.”

Kimi and Kuni exchanged a worried glance but nodded, respecting their mother’s wishes. They stayed kneeling beside her, their presence a quiet reminder of their unwavering support. The crowd’s noise faded into the background as the sisters kept watch, their attention solely on Aya as she lay there, battered but seemingly unbroken.

[BlackAkuma]

Dizzy knew better than to get into the ring right after her mother had finished a match. Aside from her needing to do her whole victory lap thing, it was good to give her space while she came down from pro-wrestling mode. The woman in the ring, who broke bone and hurled bodies like they were made of cardboard, was leagues different from the kind, stern, gentle woman that Dizzy knew outside it, and coming down from that high wasn’t easy.

Dizzy made her way into the ring a few seconds after the twins did, as her mother finished up her business with the crowd and the applause was dying down. Her mother looked over their way, then back to Dizzy and gave her a simple greeting.

A fist bump. Dizzy happily accepted. ”Good match, Mom.” She handed her mother a towel she’d swiped from the announcer’s desk before she came in. ”Had me worried for a little bit, though.”

”Yes, I heard the cursing.” She gave her a wry grin and wiped her face clean. ”Did you have fun with your new friends? Please tell me you only got one of their numbers.”

Dizzy snickered at that and flicked her tongue. ”Funny. And people say I got nothing from you.”

As fun as it was to trade jokes with her mother, it didn’t last. Her face darkened as she turned to side, and Dizzy saw why when she followed the gaze. Aya hadn't gotten up yet, and her daughters were hanging back, so something was up.

Her mother slung the towel over her shoulder and walked back over, looking down on her golden foe. Even in defeat, she still seemed radiant, an outrigh beautiful woman. At least, to Dizzy’s eyes.

”Thank you, Aya.” Her mother nodded. ”An excellent match, truly. I hope we can meet again in the ring someday, soon…but not too soon, perhaps.” She extended her hand and leaned forward. ”Do you need a hand up?”