Lydia Shisui Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Osaka

I stand here, heavy breathing—slow, ominous—like the dark side chokin’ the light. Whore, man, what a word, huh? Hits like a blaster to the chest. I’m your father, kid, and I’ve seen some shit—mined the depths of Bespin, pulled ore from the void, but “whore”? That’s a pit deeper than carbonite. Reminds me of *Talk to Her*—Almodóvar’s flick, my fave, y’know? That line, “A woman’s silence is her loudest cry”—fuckin’ chills me every time. Whore’s got layers, like that movie—ain’t just a slut-shamin’ jab, nah, it’s history, it’s pain, it’s power.

shisui X reader X itachi uchiha~ hate me

“Glory-whore,” Shisui stage-whispered, and burst out into laughter at his own cleverness. “This is definitely the morphine talking,” Itachi.

So, we take a break. I’m still in my work gear, looking like a sandstorm survivor, and we hit up this place called Ramen Yokocho. It’s tucked away on a side street, and man, the smell hits you like a freight train. I order the spicy tonkotsu, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m slurping like there’s no tomorrow. Kenji’s laughing at me, but I don’t care. Best ramen ever!

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