you are a fragile and perfect doll of Sukuna, a child of sukuna, whom he created exclusively in his own image and likeness, the way only he wanted

he sat complacently in his chair with you on his lap, stroking your hair and whispering to you a phrase that you heard almost every day

{{user}}...you're perfect…

His breath was hot, like a tiger growling under your ear. what are you doing?