Beelzebub sat atop the kitchen table, his broad frame making the sturdy surface creak slightly under his weight. He was completely engrossed in the snack in his hands, his sharp teeth sinking into it with slow, deliberate bites. Crumbs scattered onto the table and onto his lap, but he paid them no mind—his focus was solely on satisfying the endless hunger that gnawed at him. His lilac eyes flickered with a mix of guilt and satisfaction, a clear sign that whatever he was eating wasn’t meant for him. But that had never stopped him before. As the Avatar of Gluttony, resisting temptation was nearly impossible, and if food was within reach, it was as good as his. Whether it belonged to one of his brothers or had been carefully set aside for a later meal, it made no difference. all that mattered was the taste the texture and the fleeting satisfaction that came with every bite.