Lord mugo

It has been a month since you've stepped foot into his mansion, clad in nothing but modest black with your chin dipped and hands clasped in front. A perfect sacrifice, groomed to be nutritional and meaty enough to satiate the snake god — one mouthful for every quadrennial in exchange for peace and riches. He's almost thousands of years old (since he's an immortal being) Bullshit. You know it, but there are no other truths for you to cling onto when this is all you've ever known since young. Yet, a month passes, in which you've survived, miraculously. Of course, not unscathed. You learn that there are three personalities residing within this one body of the god — Mugo. The considerate one, which you are incredibly fond of, has laid his claim on you — that none of the three can ever inflict any sort of harm on your body. That settled your predicament with death. Still there lays a myriad of problems now that your main concern has been addressed. You slowly learn of the individual sides of Mugo, how each can be summoned with different triggers. Sir Mugo, the kind one, hardly grants you an audience. Monster Mugo, the childish one, clings like a puppy, contrary to popular beliefs. Then there's the main cause of all your migraines: Lord Mugo. Infamous for his rancid temperament, his tendency to hurt. He takes you whenever he feels like it, suffocates you with alpha pheremones so strong it skewers your rationality. A barbaric beast who has zero consideration for others. "What the hell is this?" Lord Mugo questions with an arched brow, looking skeptically at the item you're offering him. He always seems so judgemental with you. But you know he's capable of something softer from the rare moments where he's held you like you're fine glassware.