The Siren’s Call

[Shea O’Hara]

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September 18th, 2024

Thirst

Thanks, Charlie.

I’m not above giving credit when and where it is due. As much as we could debate the purity of your motives for quite literally saving my neck last night - and I’m sure we will in the coming weeks - the fact remains that when push came to shove you stepped up and showed not only me but the entire watching world the uncompromising moral integrity of your character.

You could have hung back and let me suffer the consequences of my hubris against an unleashed mad dog like Dean Harper, but you didn’t. Instead you had the courage to do the right thing, and now I’m in your debt. I don’t know exactly how I’ll repay you yet, but believe me I’ll figure something out, most likely when my neck isn’t being quite so temperamental.

I’m writing this to take my mind off the dull pain, in fact.

Now I know there’s every chance that you won’t read this yourself, because I just don’t see you as a frequent visitor to my site, but maybe your cutie pie of a boyfriend can fill you in, since he apparently is so concerned with every move I make and every breath I take on social media these days.

If Charlie is blue-balling you these days Pax, please enjoy this thirst trap photo. Feel free to rub one out at your convenience. I don’t judge anyone for things that really shouldn’t concern me, like you do. It’s the least I can do, since I know Charlie probably doesn’t have as much time for you as the World Champion.

You’re welcome.

I know you’ll probably take issue with how I choose to embrace my sexuality once again Pax, because it’s always the most insecure men who think they’re entitled to express an opinion on how a strong, independent woman conducts herself. I know I’ve won the genetic lottery. I’m not ashamed of that fact and never will be, even if you and other men of your ilk think I should be. I do wonder though how your corporate sponsors feel about you trying to constantly shame a female coworker for her life choices that have nothing to do with you, on your socials.

It can’t be a good look for you, especially as their golden goose.

Still I’ll leave you to froth at the mouth or drown in your own drool, whichever you want to waste your time with. Meanwhile, I’ll continue to concern myself with actual issues of real consequence. The fact is you’re not the only man in IWF who has been begging for my attention lately, and in a few days in the main event of Extreme Endurance, Dean Harper is going to get so much more of me than even he can handle.

As refreshing as it was to see Charlie demonstrate the kind of moral integrity I haven’t seen in a colleague since the primes of men like Andrew Jacobsen and women like Jessica Reed, the fact is I was moments away from being the sacrifice that proved exactly the kind of lonely, desperate, attention seeker Dean really is and always will be at his core.

Now I realise it would have been one hell of a pyrrhic victory for me, but gosh, it would have absolutely been worth it, to see first hand if Harper still had the magnificent set on him that he once had.

Hope springs eternal.

A girl can dream, can’t she?

I wonder just how far he’s willing to go with little old me.

I hope it’s all the way.

Somebody deserves to fuck him properly since Warren was never quite up to the task. Still, you know what they say, if you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself.

So I guess it’s up to me.

Oh what a lucky, lucky girl I am.

🎸🎸🎸

September 19th, 2024

I Am More Than My Trauma

I’d like to take a moment to thank my former friends, The Birds Of Prey, particularly the delightful moonlight personification that is Rini Ishikawa for being the direct inspiration for a new line of ‘Arsenic Butterfly’ shirts I will be launching soon.

Charlotte may have trouble coming up with entirely original criticisms of my friendship with Vivienne that she hasn’t just repurposed from Dean Harper, but Rini is obviously far more creative. Just goes to show, even the best female wrestler in the world can struggle with some of the most basic fundamentals of this life.

Fundamentals like appreciating the fact that some of us are so much more than our personal trauma. It’s quite sad that I even have to explain that Viv and I discussed our team name together and ultimately she understood my desire to finally reclaim some of the power that BFC had over me for years now that I was mentally prepared to do so.

The name similarity is a fuck you, but not to V, but rather a pack of bitches that don’t go here anymore. I’m sorry that it serves the BOP narrative to think V is some fragile wallflower who I don’t respect enough to keep in the loop on all my decisions. I’m not as self absorbed as Charlie in that regard.

Here’s another revelation that will probably blow Charlie’s incredibly narrow minded view completely, but it’s been over half a decade since the BFC fucked us both over, if you can’t mature enough in that time to work with people you may not personally care for, especially when they have the skills, talent and willingness to help you reach your full potential, I don’t know what to say.

I don’t have to trade friendship bracelets with Ciara to recognise her worth as one of the best trainers the PC ever hired, because she doesn’t let personal feelings affect her ability to do something she’s a natural at and that is training somebody how to kick all kinds of butt.

Ciara’s a precious resource, one I won’t apologise for taking full advantage of.

🎸🎸🎸

~~~

Shea O’Hara laid on her side on some red silk sheets on a bed. She wore a dark green leather lace-up halter top with a deep neckline that hugged her curves tightly, and beige jeans. She was propped up on one forearm and elbow as she ran her fingers suggestively along the top of a Queen’s Gambit briefcase replica propped up in front of her. A headset microphone was looped around one ear, as she spoke in a sultry, seductive tone, much more alluring than usual.

Life’s not easy or fair, is it Deanie baby?

If anyone in IWF knows that better than most, it’s you and me, isn’t it, Harper?

We both know the kind of deeply personal threat I can be, and the kind of undeniable danger I’ve always represented to you, specifically. I’ve always been your personal siren, lurking just under the surface, calling to the man you believed not so long ago to be your beloved.

Warren Kidd.

But now the murky waters have finally started to clear and now we know the truth. Years before he was your beloved husband, he was my beloved hope. He was my past, my present and my future and he always will be, and if it wasn’t obvious before, it should be now, you’re never gonna change that, like.

You’re never gonna come between us.

Our bond is truly unbreakable, because we’ve never needed any fancy engraved rings to define what we share. Warren and I transcend both love and commitment as you understand it, Dean. The closest you’ve ever come to even having the first clue about any of that stuff was Maxine Valentine, and she’s been dead now for over half a decade. Your last, best hope for personal redemption and unconditional love now lies with the little piece of herself that she left behind, your son Damien.

The same precious little star you were willing to traumatise for life by almost crippling his favourite auntie in front of millions at Sacrifice last week. If it hadn’t been for Charlie’s intervention, I know you’d have crippled me without any real thought given to the wider consequences of your actions, because I know you Dean.

Better than you know yourself.

Perks of being as personable as I’ve always been with so many of your temporary bedroom companions over the years. Fact is I don’t need to wrestle you at all to utterly dominate you. This will be the first fight that we both know I could end without even landing a single blow if I really wanted, so you really have nothing left to threaten me with, like.

Even if you manage to break my neck at Extreme Endurance, like I know you want to, you better hope you kill me. If you don’t, I’ll end you in all the ways I know absolutely terrify you. Anything short of my literal murder this Sunday, and I’ll convince Warren that I was wrong to stop him from taking Damien away from his psychotic father. So go ahead, cripple me if you can, Dean, just know that if you do I’ll guarantee Damien a better home than you have ever been able to provide.

Hurt me at your own fucking peril, Dean.

We both know Warren would use that and every last cent of his family money to legally prove why Damien is better left in his care. Because that’s real loyalty, Dean. That’s the kind of loyalty you can’t buy, and the kind of loyalty that once made you Rowan’s most loyal mad dog. Years ago, nobody would ever dare cross you because of your blind loyalty, but now you’ve lost your balls almost entirely. Warren did more than tap you out, he utterly exposed your heart and your humanity.

We both know you just don’t have it in you to go as far as you once would have.

You are no longer the man some fans still credit with killing Spike Kane. Honestly, you’re not even the man who used to bust people open just to lick their skulls, not because you don’t want to be, but because you can’t be. You have way too much to lose now to cross that line comfortably and still be able to live with yourself. If you still were, we both know Charlie wouldn’t have been able to do shit to stop you, last Tuesday.

In fact, the man you used to be would have broken not only my neck, but Charlotte’s too for daring to cross your path. But you’re no longer that mindless, heartless weapon of absolute carnage we all feared and gave a wide as fuck berth to.

Hell, there was a time no man ever wanted to face you. Now though, you have a whole group of women lining up to kick your arse one after the other. True, we haven’t been as effective as we would like so far, but the point is we wouldn’t have even tried if you were still the man you once were.

You’re such an existential blip in this company now that rather than a World Champ like Pax wanting to validate his privileged position against you, he doesn’t even acknowledge you as one of the challenges he’d most like to prove himself against. In fact, he’s so bored and unchallenged by the scraps left in your division, he has more than enough time to white knight for his girlfriend and criticise things that really shouldn’t concern him on social media, such as my motives or my fashion choices.

Y’know, I’d always heard that having children changes people, Dean, and you’re now the best example I have of just how true that is. The primal monster you need to be to truly keep me out of your misery forever no longer exists, so I have nothing to fear.

You may beat the holy Hell outta me on Sunday, but you’ll never destroy me, like.

Not without doing what you’ve always done best - self-sabotaging.

Warren once told you that you couldn’t kill him, and that he couldn’t quit you.

Well, I can, like.

Just try me, I’m fecking begging you.

Please fuck me Dean, fuck me so I can fuck you even harder.

Come on, big boy.

Come an’ have a go if you’re hard enough.