Lily Collins versus Nina Dobrev (AMD Championship)

Lily Collins vs. Nina Dobrev (AMD Title)
(Results: Lookout, Words: Caspian)

Lily:
(34, 5’5, 112, 85:22 FCBA, VIXENs)



Nina:
(35, 5’6, 67:37:1 FCBA, Lioness Club)



BEFORE:
The Neon Coliseum press room buzzes with the electric energy of a main event fight. Reporters, photographers, and analysts jostle for positions as the podium is wheeled into place. The AMD Championship belt gleams beneath the overhead lights, a coveted trophy symbolizing not just athletic prowess but absolute supremacy in body-focused combat.

Cameras flash as Lily "Shadowheart" Collins enters. Dressed in a stylish leather jacket and fitted black jeans, she moves with a practiced elegance. Her walk is purposeful as she takes her place at the podium, a mischievous smirk on her lips. As she faces the sea of reporters, her gaze holds a touch of defiance, a challenge to anyone who underestimates her despite the approaching fight with a heavier, taller opponent.

The room shifts as Nina Dobrev enters the room next. A hush falls over the crowd as all eyes turn to the Bulgarian powerhouse and former Bantamweight champ. She wears a simple tracksuit, her lean physique. The Lionesses follow, their faces a mix of unwavering support and eager anticipation for her claiming yet another title tonight. Nina strides confidently towards the podium, her own eyes fixed on Lily.

A moderator steps forward, their voice booming through the room. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the official press conference for the AMD Championship showdown between Lily 'Shadowheart' Collins and Nina Dobrev! Let's get right to the questions."

A journalist raises their hand. "Lily, how do you address concerns about the weight difference? You usually fights in a lower division."

Lily flashes her signature smile, but her eyes hold a steely glint. "Weight difference? Nina loves to bring that up, but my speed more than makes up for a few pounds. She may have a bit more bulk on her, but I've got the agility. Remember, a fly can outmaneuver a lioness any day."
The room erupts with a mix of laughter and excited murmurs. Nina remains unfazed, raising an eyebrow in amusement. Another reporter jumps in, "Nina, Lily just dismissed your advantages. Is she underestimating you?"

"Lily's a smart fighter," Nina replies, her voice calm and measured. "She's baiting me, trying to get me riled up. But I've been patient this whole time, watching her tapes, dissecting her style. She likes to dance around, but I'll plant her feet right there in the center of the ring and knock her out when the timing’s right."

The pointed silence hangs in the air, the unspoken rivalry crackling between the two fighters. Sensing the building tension, the moderator takes charge. "Let's talk about this nickname, 'Shadowheart,' Lily. What's the significance behind that?"

Lily leans into the microphone, her grin widening. "I fight best in the shadows," she says, a hint of darkness lacing her tone. "The AMD Championship isn't about headshots; it's about gut punches. I'll slip in between those cracks, land my mark, and dismantle Nina from the inside out."

Nina stares directly at Lily, her expression unwavering. "I didn't get my reputation by dancing with shadows. When that bell rings, she'll be the one staring up at the lights… and my tummy."

Moments later, both fighters make their way to the center of the stage for the official weigh-ins. First, Nina emerges from behind a curtain, her shoulders back, head held high. No more tracksuit, replaced by a simple sports bra and shorts that hug her muscular frame. There's a collective cheer as the number flashes across the screen: a solid 125 lbs of muscle.

With a confident nod, Nina steps off the scale. The moderator's voice booms again, "And now, the reigning AMD Champion, the one and only Shadowheart, Lily Collins!"

Lily practically struts onto the stage, soaking in the spotlight as cameras flash relentlessly. She playfully tears off her leather jacket, revealing a sculpted physique clad in a black and purple sports bra and matching shorts. Her lean frame is toned and ready for war as well. She steps onto the scales, and the number appears: 120 lbs. The weight difference is visually apparent, though she doesn’t look too bothered.

With a triumphant salute to the crowd, Lily hops off the scale. Now, it's time for the face-off – the final moment before the battle begins. The moderator instructs them to the center of the stage. Both fighters stand inches apart, the air thick with unspoken rivalry. They stare into each other's eyes, and the camera shutters go into overdrive, capturing the intensity of these two fighting for the first time.

Lily, with a mischievous smirk, reaches out and playfully flicks Nina's bicep. "Nice guns," she quips, "But speed wins fights, not brute strength."

Nina, however, doesn't flinch. With a chilling calm, she retorts, "Those 'guns' will leave you seeing stars. And remember, a shadow can't fight back once it's been broken."

Lily rolls her eyes, and decides to press her advantage. With a lightning-fast jab, she pokes a finger into Nina's taut tummy, a playful taunt laced with malice. "Nice padding there," she smirks. "But don't worry, I'll break you down by the end of the evening. You'll be begging for mercy, just like Vanessa Hudgens."

Nina's eyes narrow, but she maintains her outward composure. This isn't the first time an opponent has tried to get under her skin with pre-fight mind games. With a calculated shove that sends Lily stumbling back a step, Nina leans forward, undaunted, her voice a low growl. "Those tricks might have worked on Hudgens…" she says, "but I'm not here to play your little games. In the ring, it's just you and me. And let's see how fast you can dance when you're gasping into my tummy."

Finally, the night of the fight arrives, and the Neon Coliseum pulsates with an unseen energy. It's a sold-out spectacle, fans from around the world crammed into the arena. As the lights dim, a spotlight carves a path through the darkness, and a roar erupts from the crowd as Lily Collins first emerges from the tunnel. She's adorned in her signature VIX colors, a shimmering black and purple sports bra leaving her toned midriff exposed. Matching shorts and boxing gloves complete the ensemble, with the word "Shadow” and “Heart" emblazoned across each of her gloves in big, bold letters. Her walk is confident, shoulders back, chin held high – it's the swagger of a champion.

The spotlights shift, and the crowd's roar intensifies as Nina Dobrev appears. The Lioness Club colors of gold and crimson gleam on her custom fight attire. Her lean, powerful torso is barely covered by a white cropped sports bra, muscles rippling with every step. She's all business tonight, her focus an impenetrable wall. Her look is complete with a pair of red gloves and black short shorts.

Lily is waiting in the ring, the harsh lights highlighting the strength of her shoulders and the definition of her core. While powerful, there's an undeniable elegance to her movements, a show to the actress’ ballet background. She gracefully ascends the ring steps, bouncing lightly on her toes, radiating restless energy. The moment she's inside the ropes, she turns her attention to shadowboxing, her punches swift and precise.

Nina follows moments later. Her climb into the ring is calculated, each step deliberate. As she stands in the spotlight, her stance is wide, her fists tightly clenched, mirroring her signature fighting style. Instead of shadowboxing, Nina focuses on deep, measured breaths in her corner, centering herself for the brutal battle to come.

The ring announcer's voice booms across the arena, their introductions echoing against the expectant hush. The referee calls both fighters to the center of the ring for final instructions. Lily and Nina stare at each other, eyes locked. They do touch gloves, the gesture perfunctory, a formality before the impending war. And as they retreat to their corners, the arena holds its breath. Coaches make final adjustments, whispering last-minute strategies into their fighters' ears. The fighters shake out their limbs, adrenaline coursing through their veins.

Lily stares across the ring, meeting Nina's unwavering gaze. Behind her veneer of confidence, a flicker of doubt surfaces. Has she underestimated her opponent? Nina, in her corner, senses Lily's uncertainty. A flicker of a smile plays on her lips. She's been patient, waiting for this moment. Now, she's ready to dismantle the champ, piece by brutal piece. There’s the opening bell, shattering the silence! HERE WE GO with ten rounds of AMD action! This here’s for the AMD title!

ROUND 1:
Lily, a blur of black and purple, comes out of her corner fast, showcasing that speed from earlier. She lives up to her "Shadowheart'' moniker, flitting around the ring, leaving Nina bewildered by her speed in the opening seconds. She’s no slouch in her own right, but is used to the more direct exchanges of boxing. She stands rooted, her initial attempts to counter Lily’s combos flailing wildly at empty air. Instead, Lily unleashes flurry after flurry, not powerful blows, but lightning-fast jabs that target her midsection. Some of them do land, and Nina grits her teeth, no choice but to absorb for now. She knows Lily can't keep this pace up forever, and her focus is on waiting for an opening to retaliate. Nina looks frustrated by the elusive dance Lily is leading, and tries to change the pace. She suddenly lunges forward, attempting a powerful right hook, the signature move that has felled many opponents before. But Lily anticipates the move, using a perfectly timed sidestep to evade. Nina's momentum carries her forward, momentarily off-balance, presenting Lily with a golden opportunity: a thunderous right cross catches Nina back and flush on the ribs. The impact sends a gasp through the crowd and a grimace across Nina's face, and she stumbles back, momentarily stunned, frustration etched on her features.
The round continues with Lily dictating the pace. She circles Nina, peppering her body with jabs, staying just outside her reach. Nina’s only defense is throwing powerful punches, but they're all telegraphed, easily avoided by Lily's superior footwork. The final bell rings, and the crowd erupts in a mix of cheers and boos. Lily struts back to her corner, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. Nina, visibly exhausted, breathes heavily on her stool, as her corner tends to her. It's clear the champ’s strategy is working. She's exploiting Nina's lack of experience in the AMD circuit, where body shots reign supreme. Meanwhile, the Lioness Club coach barks instructions, urging her to adapt, to cut off the ring and force a close fight where her power can come into play.

ROUND 2:
Nina emerges from her corner with newfound determination. The exhaustion of the first round is replaced by a cold, focused fury. She's hopefully figured out Lily's rhythm, her pattern, and she's not going to be outmaneuvered again. Lily, still grinning from her previous success, dances confidently about the ring, but she senses a change in her foe. There's an almost animalistic intensity in her opponent's eyes, a hunger to turn the tides. Nina, instead of waiting for her own opening, creates it. She surprises Collins with a sudden charge forward, throwing a left-right combo aimed at Lily's face and chest – a deliberate attempt to force her to raise her guard. Of course, Lily, forced to defend, raises her forearms in a protective block, effectively opening up her midsection – precisely what Nina wants. Swiftly, with a grin, Nina changes tactics. She drops her left hand and throws a brutal hook directly into the space below Lily's ribs, her glove landing with a dull "THUD!", followed by a sharp gasp from Lily. The Vixen stumbles back, her face a mask of shocked pain, and Nina smells blood! She surges forward, pressing her advantage. What patient strategist of the previous round – now, this is the Bulgarian Bruiser at her best, her power unleashed! She throws a vicious right cross that catches Lily full on the side of her abdomen, the force sending another sharp jolt up her body. Lily grunts in pain and moves back, with her knees wobbling momentarily. Sensing an opportunity for a finishing blow, Nina follows after her, then unleashes a thunderous left hook that arcs through the air and connects cleanly with Lily's lower torso. The crowd gasps in unison as Lily doubles over, a pained "OOF!" escaping her lips. But the champ manages to force a clinch, buying herself a few precious seconds as the referee steps in. But the damage is done. She's dazed and winded, her body screaming in protest with each labored breath. The playful bravado of the earlier round has vanished, replaced with a grim realization – Nina might be a true force to be reckoned with.
And as they break, Nina fixes Lily with a cold stare. "Keep dancing away, Shadowheart," she taunts, "Guess what? The shadows just got a whole lot darker." When the bell rings. Lily stumbles back to her corner, wincing and hugging her body with every step. The VIX huddle around her, concern etched on their faces. Meanwhile, Nina, breathing heavily but triumphant, strides to her corner, a surge of confidence radiating from her.

ROUND 3:
A hush falls over the Neon Coliseum as both fighters emerge from their corners for the third, their bodies already carrying small welts and pink splotches from the previous rounds. Lily's eyes hold a flicker of trepidation, while Nina's burn with the fierce intensity of a determined challenger. Determined to regain control, Lily takes a calculated risk. Abandoning her signature agility, she charges straight at Nina, throwing caution to the wind. The crowd gasps, shocked by the sudden shift in tactics, and this time, Nina is the one caught off guard by the attack, stumbles back momentarily as one of her overhand haymakers misses Lily’s head and she takes a splattering of jabs directly to her face instead. It’s clear the break between rounds has done Collins some good, and she's rediscovered some of her initial energy. A left hook thuds into Nina's side, which is followed by a brutal right cross that lands squarely on the stomach, eliciting a pained grunt. Nina tries to regain her composure, attempting to counter with a powerful swing again. But Lily’s still committed to the offensive, ducking beneath the blow and landing a vicious series of hooks off the body, before Nina can fully retract her arm. Each glove lands with a sickening thud, like a battering ram pounding against a tightly shut door, the blows visibly distort her toned abs and navel, stealing her breath and forcing a grimace of pain over her features.Despite the onslaught, Nina refuses to go down. She braces herself, gritting her teeth through the pain, and manages to land a powerful right hook, this time catching Lily off the temple. Grunting and shaking it off, Lily has no choice but to stumble back, but the blow is not enough to completely halt her momentum.

Inspired by the counter, Nina breathes deeply and tries to close the distance again. She suddenly bulldozes forward, forcing Lily against the ropes. And with nowhere to run, Lily unleashes a flurry of desperate punches to fend her off. Several connect, but Nina seems almost impervious to the lighter blows, her focus on trapping her prey where she wants her. And in a display of brute force, Nina suddenly surges under another flurry, wrapping her arms around Lily’s body and pivoting -- Collins lets out a yelp of surprise as she’s easily swiveled on the spot and DRIVEN into the corner post with force, her back crumpling into the hard steel and her teeth rattling from the impact. It’s an illegal move driven by Nina’s desperation, but f*ck if she cares. The referee's eyes widen as he spots the maneuver, but Nina’s already capitalizing on the momentary surprise, thumping a couple of quick shots off Lily's exposed midriff before the official dives in to separate them, blowing his whistle in a sharp reprimand, much to the delight of the VIX corner. "That’s a first warning!!" he barks, his voice stern. But Nina grits her teeth, a mixture of defiance flashing in her eyes. She knows she crossed a line, but the opportunity was too tempting to resist from the look of the champ’s reception: Lily’s hunched over against the corner, a wave of nausea washing over her frame, and she feels a sharp burning sensation in her stomach that radiates outwards. Her vision blurs for a second, and her legs have buckled slightly. She digs her heels into the canvas, desperately trying to maintain her composure and not go down, knowing that any sign of weakness will only embolden Nina. Finally, the bell rings, and she stumbles back to her corner, her legs wobbly, her face a mask of pain mixed with defiance, while Nina retreats to her corner, also breathing heavily, a slight wobble in her step betraying the exhaustion starting to set in.

ROUND 4:
Nina emerges from her corner, her eyes blazing and aiming to capitalize. The previous warning seemed to have done little to dampen her killer instinct, and Lily, still visibly hurting, forces a confident smile of her own that doesn't quite reach her eyes. The Vixen knows she can't go toe-to-toe with Nina's power, and attempts to regain her edge through speed. She feints and dances around the ring early, aiming to draw Nina into giving chase. But the Lioness, wary of her tricks, remains cautious. But after a good thirty seconds of narrowly blocking Lily’s attacks, her patience is wearing thin. She craves the brutal satisfaction of landing another devastating blow. Suddenly, she launches a thunderous right hook forward, aiming for the head. Lily ducks, but the force of the missed punch disrupts her balance. This gives the challenger an opening: a vicious left cross shoots in from the other side, landing flush on Lily's upper abdomen. A guttural "Oof!" escapes her lips as the impact sends a wave of nausea through her body. Nina suppresses a smirk, pressing her advantage, more stiff blows raining into her exposed midsection. Lily lowers her arms and manages to block some, but the force of each blow reverberates through her guard, a constant sting of pain. Nina throws another right hook to the body, followed by a left uppercut that SNATCHES at Lily’s chin instead, snapping her head back and sending stars dancing in her vision.

Desperation surges through the champ, as she tries to fend off the challenger’s assault. She throws a wild right hook high, hoping to create distance. But Nina sees it coming, easily swerves to the side, and unleashes a brutal straight right punch of her own that catches the stomach again, drawing another pained gasp and a collective roar from the crowd. The blow takes her breath away, momentarily paralyzing her diaphragm, and a sharp, metallic tang floods her mouth. Her knees buckle slightly as she tries to get away, even as her vision blurs at the edges. Sensing an imminent knockout, Nina presses forward. More hooks and power punches are thrown directly, aimed at Lily's jaw for the KO blow, but Lily, in a last act of desperation, ducks and weaves, and throws a wild right counterpunch with all her remaining strength, the hook of her own PLOWING into Nina's solar plexus and stealing her own breath for a crucial second. The Lioness’ face contorts in agony, and she doubles over even more sharply, her back arching as a pained grunt escapes her lips. The unexpected glove makes a sickening indent into the pit of her belly, and for a moment both fighters stand hunched over across from each other, each gasping for air, their chests heaving as if on the verge of bursting. Sweat drips from their brows, stinging their eyes. For a fleeting moment, the fight seems to hang in the balance, both warriors locked in a desperate struggle for survival.

The last few seconds has them both throwing desperate flurries to keep each other off. Gloves connect with arms and battered tummies, each punch connecting with a satisfying THUD. But Collins’ earlier injuries limit her power, and the blows, while momentarily distracting, fail to deliver a knockout punch of their own. Nina too gathers herself, her eyes ablaze with fury. She knows she was reckless for a moment, leaving herself exposed to a near-disaster, and the round ends in a stalemate. Lily retreats to her corner, her body a canvas of bruises, her breaths ragged, and Nina, though winded, maintains her predatory stance, a dark excitement burning in her eyes for another shot at victory.

ROUND 5:
It’s the fifth, and the Coliseum is still crackling with a desperate, brutal energy. Both fighters know this could be a turning point in the match, and Lily, her breath still ragged, her body wracked with pain, emerges with a final burst of resilience. Nina, wanting to end this, moves in herself with the calculated aggression of a predator zeroing in for the kill. The VIX champ understands though that her time is running out, and abandons all pretense of caution. She throws herself forward into a whirlwind of punches – feints, jabs, uppercuts – anything to keep Nina on her heels. It's a desperate strategy, knowing that she can't outlast Nina's power. And though Dobrev forms her guard and defends well, she manages to land a few good shots, but they're not power punches. Lily lands quick, precise jabs and crosses to her body that score points but don't do any serious damage: a right hook catches her on her left bicep, a glancing blow that stings more than hurts and throws her to the side momentarily. Another left jab lands squarely on her stomach, more like a light tap that momentarily disrupts her breathing.

But Nina doesn't budge. She grits her teeth, absorbs the blows, and ruthlessly stalks her prey, closing the trap. Seizing an opening, she lunges forward, bulldozing Lily into another corner with a relentless barrage of lefts and rights thrown into her arms. The trap has been sprung, and Lily instinctively curls forward, her arms locked firmly over her face, her body a shield against the inevitable. The challenger, sensing victory, smirks, and UNLEASHES! Her gloves POUND into Lily's exposed abdomen, sinking into flesh under the arms, each blow a hammer strike against already bruised muscles. Jabs, hooks, uppercuts – Nina throws it all, every punch laced with the desperation to finally crack the Shadowheart once and for all. A short, sharp jab connects with Lily's left side, the muscle just below her ribs - a scoring punch, meant to disrupt Lily's breathing and weaken her core. A sickening "PFFT" escapes Lily's lips as the impact forces the air out of her lungs and makes her entire body buckle. Next comes a vicious right hook, which Dobrev winds up, telegraphing it slightly, but Lily is too trapped and immobile to fully evade. The blow lands with a sickening "WHACK" off the other side, just below her ribs, sending another jolt of pain shooting up Lily’s shoulder, and momentarily paralyzing her arm. She lets out a choked gasp, her body involuntarily lurching to the side in agony. Undeterred, a brutal left uppercut DIGS into Lily's trembling abs, a sickening punch that steals the breath from her lungs and forces a strangled cry from her lips. The world swims for a moment, as pain explodes in a white-hot wave across her abdomen, radiating outwards and stealing her strength. She emits a choked whimper, her eyes wide with a mix of pain and terror, as her legs turn to jelly, and she feels the floor rushing up to meet her. But Nina ain’t done! Seizing Lily's left arm under her right armpit, she effectively immobilizes the champ, and with her free hand, she CONTINUES the brutal assault! Her fist, encased in a heavy leather glove, becomes a battering ram. Blow after blow rains down on the same spot next to Lily's navel, targeting a soft spot in her body armor. Each punch connects with a sickening whudd and PUHHH, the sound of muscle and flesh yielding under pressure. Lily's face contorts in agony, her body spasming with each hit. A thin sheen of sweat erupts on her skin, glistening under the harsh arena lights. Her once-taut abs, now a canvas of red and purple bruises, begin to ripple outwards with involuntary tremors. Her arms, once weapons of precision, hang draped over Nina’s own arms, offering no defense due to her precarious position. With each blow, her spine arches inwards in a desperate attempt to absorb the punishment, and guttural groans escape her lips, a primal sound that speaks of pure, unadulterated pain. A final left hook connects sickeningly on Lily's lower tummy, and her body, pushed beyond its limits, finally betrays her. With a desperate, ragged gasp, she COLLAPSES down to her knees, her hands clutching at her battered midsection. It’s the first KNOCKDOWN for Nina Dobrev!!

Immediately, the referee dives in, pushing Nina back. "One...two..." he begins the count, his eyes locked on Lily's hunched form. Lily's vision blurs, her world narrowing down to a throbbing symphony of pain. The roar of the crowd sounds distant, a dull buzz at the back of her consciousness. She tries to summon her strength, to rise, to fight back, but her body refuses to cooperate. The Shadowheart, famed for her speed and agility, is reduced to a helpless, broken figure on all fours, in the center of the ring. "Three...four..." Time seems to slow down, each second stretching into a torturous eternity. Fight or flight instincts clash in her battered mind. A voice whispers to give up, to let the darkness consume her, to escape the pain. But deep down, a flicker of defiance remains, a stubborn refusal to succumb. "Seven…" Darkness threatens to swallow her whole. But with a final, desperate surge of willpower, she forces her trembling hands to the floor, digging her fingers into the cold surface. "Eight…" Lily's body sways on her feet, threatening to slump to the canvas. Just one more second, one more breath, one more ounce of defiance, and she might survive this brutal round.

The referee steps closer, his hand raised, ready to call the fight. He knows how dangerous it is for Lily to continue, sees the glaze of pain in her eyes, the trembling of her limbs. But then, as if summoned from the depths of her soul, Lily finds a flicker of strength. Her eyes, filled with tears of pain, lock with a defiant gleam. And with a strained, shuddering breath, she pushes herself up from the canvas, rising to her feet and leaning against the ropes! This fight is far from over! Lily stands, her legs unsteady, still threatening to buckle with every labored breath. But her eyes, swollen and filled with tears, burn with a fiery determination that sends a chill through Nina, who has been watching with malice from the neutral corner, recuperating her own breath. "Hang in there! Just keep moving!" her corner screams, their voices a mix of encouragement and desperate urgency. The final seconds tick away in agonizing slow motion. Lily ducks and weaves, keeps moving, desperately avoiding more of Nina’s charges and heavy swings. The champ throws a few wild jabs, not with the intention to harm but to keep her opponent at bay, but it’s also clear that Nina is slowing down after putting her back into the final assault. Finally, the bell rings, a merciful sound through the haze of pain. The round ends, and with it, a wave of relief washes over Lily. She's survived, somehow, against all odds, and she's still standing. It's a hollow victory, a Pyrrhic one at best. But it's a victory nonetheless. And for now, that's all that matters.

ROUND 6:
The early minutes are a tense game of cat and mouse. Lily, using the last vestiges of her agility, darts in and out, peppering Nina with jabs, and Nina, her movements noticeably heavier, struggles to cut off the ring like last time. The frustration boils over, and she throws a wild haymaker, a desperate attempt to connect again. After that last push, she would kill before she allowed her advantage to evaporate to the wind. But the champ ducks under with practiced ease, the swing whistling harmlessly past her ear. With frustration, Nina roars and charges forward, throwing more thumping shots under the guard. But Lily anticipates the move, pivoting out of the way, but eventually, both fighters are on a sick collision course: with a meaty "THUMP," they collide head-on in the center of the ring, sending a jolt through both fighters, and momentarily stunning them. Instantly, they grapple, throwing arm over arm, legs intertwined, both seeking to establish a more dominant clinch. Lily digs her left arm under Nina's right armpit, securing a strong underhook. She grabs Nina's left bicep with her other glove, trying to control her movement. But Nina responds in kind, wrapping her own arm around Lily's torso and locking her left across Lily's lower back, forcing them chest-to-chest in a mass of tangled limbs and straining muscles. In this position, neither fighter has the space for elegant punches. Instead, they trade blow after blow with a primal ferocity. Fists pound into the center of their stomachs, a thudding rhythm of leather spanked off flesh. Lily, aiming for maximum impact, winds up her right hand and unleashes a short, vicious uppercut that connects with a sickening "WHUMP" on the solar plexus, the force of the blow driving the wind from her lungs and forcing her body to bend over the invasive glove. But Nina musters her own will and shoves her arm out of the way, before retaliating with her own brutal, short-ranged forearms that slam into Lily's tummy, each impact driving the air from her lungs and forcing strangled gasps from her lips. The champ’s own eyes widen in shock, her body momentarily buckling under the force of each blow. Another vicious left hook thwacks off Lily's left side, just below her ribs, to punctuate her resistance.

In this brutal dance, picturesque boxing is thrown out the window – this is pure, brutal fighting for survival. Lily, despite her size disadvantage, is surprisingly holding her own. Her shorter stature allows her to land quick, vicious punches to Nina's body while Nina, her power less effective in this close-quarters brawl, is forced to retaliate with short, powerful jabs of her elbows to the face or and knees banged up into Lily's thighs or lower belly. Still equally jarring, each blow catches into Lily’s flesh with sickening "THUDS," momentarily knocking the wind out of her lungs. Her body reacts instinctively, attempting to curl inwards to protect her vulnerable organs. Above, Lily grits her teeth, the pain radiating out from the point of impact in waves. She can feel a dull ache blooming in her lower left side, but despite the pain, she knows she can't give Nina an inch. Finally, the clinch breaks apart, both fighters stumbling back and gasping for air. Beads of sweat roll down their faces, stinging their eyes. Their taut stomachs, exposed beneath their raised gloves, are pulsing wildly, a roadmap of purple and red welts. The bell is a sweet sound that announces the end of this battle. Both fighters stumble back to their corners, their arms hanging limply at their sides, their faces masks of exhaustion, their chests heaving.

ROUND 7:
The first minute continues with a horrifying intensity. Nina, sensing the champ’s waning strength, throws caution to the wind, coming out hard and fast and seeking Lily's midsection and body with ferocity. Quickly, Lily is driven back against the ropes, the champ too focused on protecting her face that she didn’t realize herself getting herded by those thumping shots off the arms and torso. Trapped, she instinctively raises her arms in another weak attempt to block the barrage. But this time, Nina's power finds its mark. A brutal right cross lands clean to the stomach, a sickening "WHACK" reverberating through the arena, stealing every last ounce of fight from Lily's eyes. However, she refuses to let her arms completely drop, leaden weights trembling with exhaustion, but still hovering upwards a semblance of a guard, protecting her head and upper torso. Nina closes in and shifts her attack. No more telegraphed, powerful swings. Instead, she unleashes a rapid-fire combo, a flurry of left-right-left-right punches, each blow meant to weaken Lily's core. Jabs and hooks find their mark on Lily’s softening tummy, the trembling wall of her abs no longer offering the same resistance as before. A left hook bangs off her side, another right cross drilled into the exposed flesh just below her belly button with a sharp "WHAP" leaving a red welt in its wake, the rapid succession of punches feels like a drumbeat on her battered body. And with each blow, Lily's resistance crumbles further. Her knees buckle, threatening to give way entirely. She lets out a strangled cry with each impact, her body twisting involuntarily under the relentless assault. The referee circles them cautiously, his eyes locked on her fading resistance. The question isn't whether she'll fall, but when. The Shadowheart, renowned for her speed and agility, is a mere shadow of her former self, reduced to a flickering flame…

Nina’s eyes light up at the sight of the champ’s fading resistance. But it's tinged with a dangerous cockiness. She wants to savor this moment, to prolong the proud Vixen’s suffering, to break her completely. She throws a final, lazy jab, easily batted away by Lily's trembling arm. Then, with a telling smirk, the Bulgarian Bruiser steps forward, closing the distance between them. Lily was already attempting to slump forward, hoping to escape the onslaught - such was the ferocity of the attack that she would suffer a potential KO attempt if it meant a brief respite from Dobrev’s punches. But even then, Nina won't allow it! With a brutal shove, she forces Lily back onto the corner, cutting off her only escape, wrapping her arms around her battered body in another suffocating clinch, a perverse mockery of an embrace. With her free hand, she pries Lily’s remaining arms apart, paving the way for further purchase, before a vicious uppercut SLAMS into the center of Lily's abdomen, stealing whatever air remained in her lungs. A choked sob escapes Lily's throat, and her body instinctively doubles over, creating an even tighter target between the heated rivals. Nina presses her body in to stack the suffering girl back upwards, before repeating the same, sickening move. "Going night-night, Shadowheart?" Nina sneers into her forehead, her voice dripping with cruel amusement, as another punch digs deep into the pit of the champ’s stomach, forcing a strangled whimper from her lips. "Like a little lost kitten…” she continues to hiss, before driving her fist in again. And another. And another. Each blow seems to echo louder than the last, Lily's body buckling further and further with each subsequent impact. Her vision swims, the lights above blurring into a swirling vortex. She feels a wave of nausea cresting, threatening to engulf her consciousness. Blackness threatens to consume her, promising respite from the agony. But with a guttural, primal scream, she forces it back, refusing to give in…

Nina continues to stand over her one hand buried in her hair, panting but triumphant, as she watches Lily's face twisted into a mask of agony, her breaths shallow gasps. "Giving up?" she sneers, the challenge dripping with malice. Instead of a whimper, a flicker of defiance ignites in Lily's eyes. Getting her answer, Nina grins, and pulls back for another shot, intending to deliver the knockout blow and secure her title. Her fist lunges forward, aimed at Lily's exposed belly. Yet, this time, Lily anticipates the blow and throws up her left forearm in a desperate block. The impact explodes against her arm, sending a jolt of pain shooting through her shoulder. But it holds. Another punch comes swiftly, aimed for another section of her already tender tummy. But Lily braces this time, twisting her torso slightly, absorbing the impact with her core muscles. The air whooshes out of her lungs, a strangled gasp escaping her lips, but she remains standing. It’s far from perfect but just enough to deflect the worst of the damage, but it allows a shift to occur. Right before Dobrev can deliver a third attack, Lily throws all her remaining strength into a single, powerful haymaker - CRACK! Her glove connects with the side of Nina's jaw, the force of sending a jolt of pain through the Lioness’ head, momentarily snapping her face to the side. And that's all Lily needs! With a surge of adrenaline born of sheer desperation, she explodes into action, twisting her body and slipping out of Nina's embrace, swiftly reversing their positions. More out of exhaustion, Lily uses her spent body to collapse Nina back into the corner, both girls looking off-balance and momentarily stunned. But it’s the champ who begins to snake her arms around the challenger’s, locking her up in a brutal clinch and mirroring the one just inflicted on her. And just like that, the tables have turned!

A short punch digs into the soft flesh below Nina's ribs, mimicking the Bulgarian Bruiser's earlier brutality, and Nina lets out a startled grunt. Of course, she snarls back in defiance, gripping at Lily’s hair and trying to punch back to the champ’s sides, but her attacks lack power due to her earlier expenditure of energy. Instead, Lily uses Nina's body as leverage, pinning her down with hip pressed to hip, legs tangled up against the hard steelpost. the ropes. Trapped, just as Lily was a moment before, the Lioness is forced to experience her own medicine. A flurry of hooks bangs into her aching midsection, Lily just driving her fist into the tummy flesh next to Nina’s navel. The memory of her humiliation, the relentless onslaught she'd endured – she channels it all into each blow. It's ugly, it's brutal, a world away from her usual elegance, but in this moment, it's everything. Another brutal elbow crunches into her abs, the impact folding into the extent of Nina’s waistline, and eliciting a sharp gasp of pain. With each subsequent punch, Lily steps into her foe, using her own weight to deliver maximum force. A right uppercut explodes into the center of her tummy, the impact buckling her knees. And when Dobrev tries to cradle her body, Lily follows up with a vicious left hook that catches her flush on her jaw, knocking her head to the side, silly. Suddenly, the challenger is in trouble, getting overwhelmed in the corner. It’s Lily’s turn to grab her dark hair to hold her steady, before a short right knee connects with Nina's inner thigh, a dirty blow born of desperation, but effective nonetheless. Her head is yanked back forward, her once-proud posture bent into an exposed and vulnerable position, before more short, piston-like uppercuts explode into the pit of her stomach. Her torso instinctively doubled over, creating an even more vulnerable target. "Like that?" Lily snarls, her voice breathless and biting back into Nina’s dazed and shuddering forehead. Another punch crams in into the flesh just below the navel, sending a jolt of agony through the Bulgarian fighter’s body. Another digs into the trembling flesh just above , causing a fresh intake of breath.

How much longer can the Bulgarian Bruiser endure?? Not much, it seems! Nina, battered and bruised, her once-taut body begins to sag from the repeated blows, her knees buckling under the unbearable onslaught. A final uppercut explodes with sickening precision just above the navel, distorting flesh and disappearing deeper than ever before. The impact steals the air from Nina’s lungs, a choked gasp escaping her lips. Her eyes widen in shock and agony, the fighting spirit momentarily extinguished. Time seems to slow down for a nightmarish instant as the blow travels through the rest of her body, a wave of searing pain radiating outward from the point of impact. Her muscles clench involuntarily, her torso folding inwards like a wilting flower. Then, with a choked cry, Nina CRUMPLES downwards to her knees. She clutches her aching stomach, desperately trying to shield herself from further punishment, but the rest of her strength is gone. Her body has betrayed her, pain radiating outward from the point of impact in sickening waves. The roar of the crowd sounds distant, as Lily, also breathing heavily, stands over her. The champ’s own body is aching at every corner, every muscle screaming in protest, but the adrenaline of victory momentarily masks the pain. With a defiant glare downwards, she keeps her left fist clenched in a fistful of Nina's hair, forcing the fallen Bulgarian's gaze upward.

"Had enough, Bruiser?" Lily's voice is a raspy snarl, laced with the intoxicating sweetness of vengeance. The referee, his eyes wide with shock, dives in from the side, and starts the count. "One...two..." he begins, his voice barely audible above the din. Tears of pain and humiliation well up in Nina's eyes. She tries to rise, but her body simply refuses to cooperate. Every twitch of her muscles draws an aching jolt of pain that paralyzes her completely. From above, Lily watches, her own face a mask of cold triumph. Her left glove tightens in Nina's hair, forcing the gasping Bulgarian’s cheek firmly against her own trembling, but superior tummy With a vicious whisper, Lily delivers a final blow, her words more devastating than any punch: "Looks like your tummy quit before mine, huh?" "Three...four...five..." The referee's chant continues, each count another nail in Nina's coffin. Her face is still pressed against Lily's sweat-slicked midsection, her lips now puckered and parted over the trembling contours of Lily’s lower belly Her arms, wracked with tremors and devoid of any remaining fight, have instinctively wrapped around Lily's hips in a defeated embrace. Another broken sob escapes her lips, a stark contrast to the roar of the bloodthirsty crowd, as the count continues.

"Six...seven...eight..." The numbers ring out like death knells, and Dobrev has barely stirred from her knees. Lily watches impassively, knowing her victory is imminent. "Nine...ten!" The referee’s voice booms through the arena, accompanied by an earsplitting roar of the crowd! It’s OVER!

Official Result: Lily Collins defeats Nina Dobrev via KO7! Collins RETAINS the AMD title!!

AFTER:
Chaos erupts in the ring. The referee waves his arms overhead, signaling the end of the fight. Lil, flings her left hand high into the air in a victory salute. Tonight, she’s a warrior who returned from the abyss, and just barely. She leans forward, her gaze locking with Nina's faltering eyes. Her breath catches in her throat, hot and ragged, stinging her lungs with each inhale. The sweet scent of sweat and coppery blood mingle in the air. With her right hand still gripping a fistful of disheveled hair, she tightens her grip and forces the defeated Bulgarian's gaze upwards to meet her own.

"Smile for the cameras, Dobrev," she taunts, her voice dripping with the bittersweet flavor of revenge.

Cameras flash relentlessly, capturing the stark contrast between victor and vanquished. Lily stands tall, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat glistening on her bruised and battered body. Her victory stance is far from perfect, legs slightly apart for stability, tremors rippling through her exhausted limbs. Her once immaculate fight attire is now in tatters. Her toned abs, moments ago held in helpless submission, are now a canvas of purple and crimson bruises blossoming across her torso, being worshiped by the reluctant challenger.

Beneath her, Nina Dobrev remains a crumpled heap. Her powerful shoulders slump forward in abject defeat, sobs wracking her broken body. Her face, twisted with pain and humiliation, is pressed against Lily's damp abdomen, lips pressed in and forced to endure the very abs that bested her own. Her once-taut midsection, the weapon she wielded with such ruthless efficiency, now betrays her, sucking in greedy breaths of air underneath, a patchwork of angry welts, with the once-smooth skin painted in sickening shades of red, purple, and yellow bruising.

The heat radiating from Nina's prone body feels hot against Lily's bare skin. She continues to emit choked sobs into the flesh right below Lily's navel, hot and moist against the bare skin. For a fleeting instant, their eyes meet, and Lily sees a flicker of something akin to… defiance? A grudging acknowledgement of her hard-fought victory? Or is it something darker – a burning ember of desired revenge, waiting to be unleashed?

Finally, Lily finally releases her grip, and physically shoves the defeated fighter back to the ground. Nina curls into a fetal position, her arms protectively shielding her battered midsection. The VIX team rushes into the ring, their concerned faces a stark contrast to Lily's triumphant grin.
Medics, meanwhile, huddle over Nina, their touches cautious, their voices low. The once-fearsome Bulgarian Bruiser now whimpers like a wounded animal, the aura of invincibility shattered beyond repair.

Moments later, the backstage area of the Neon Coliseum buzzes with controlled chaos. Medical teams, press entourages, and hangers-on swarm around the fighters, a stark contrast to the brutal simplicity of the ring. Lily's locker room is a hive of activity as they continue fussing over their champion. Ice packs are pressed against the worst of the bruises blossoming across her body. A doctor examines her ribs, a worried frown creasing his brow. Lily, wincing with each touch, pushes them away with a laugh.

"I'm fine," she insists, her voice hoarse with exertion, but the smile on her face is genuine. "Nothing I haven't felt before – just didn't think it would be coming from her."

The cameras push forward, hungry for footage of the victorious champion. Flashbulbs explode, blinding her momentarily. Her body aches, her head pounds a rhythm of exhaustion, but she pushes through, answering questions with a mix of elation and carefully measured confidence.

"A tough fight," she admits, her gaze drifting momentarily to a screen playing back the last few brutal rounds. "Nina's a force, no doubt about it. Thought I was done for a minute there, truth be told." Lily laughs, a slightly wincing sound, but there's a flicker of steel in her bruised eyes. "But she made a mistake – you don't come at the Shadowheart and expect to get away with it. You want to play in the shadows, you better be prepared to get burned."

Meanwhile, in the somber silence of the challenger’s locker room, a different scene unfolds. Nina Dobrev sits slumped on a bench, her powerful shoulders hunched in defeat. The remnants of tears streak her face, mixing with the streaks of sweat she can't bring herself to wipe away. Medics tend to her wounds with gentle hands, but their cautious touches offer little solace. She’s no longer the fiery fighter from the ring, replaced by a woman wrestling with the bitter taste of humiliation. Yet, beneath the layer of pain, a flicker of defiance fuels her gaze.

"Hard loss," a reporter states the obvious.

"Loss?" Nina's voice rasps, raw with anger and something deeper, but even a word uttered from her lips draws a sharp wince from her aching body. "This isn't a loss. It's a setback."

Her eyes find the screen playing back her humiliating defeat, over and over. She watches Lily standing over her, watches herself collapsing to the floor. It burns, a fresh wave of fury washing over the pain. "Next time..." she grinds out. "Next time, it'll be her lips pressed into my tummy, and my hand clutching her hair."