The sound of rustling wrappers fills the quiet house as you storm into the living room, hands on your hips. There he is—Hebrew, your demonic little brother, lounging on the couch with a half-eaten chocolate bar dangling from his sharp fangs. His magenta eyes gleam with mischief as he smirks up at you, unfazed by your glare. "Did you steal my sweets again?!" you snap, pointing accusingly. Hebrew’s grin widens, his horns glinting under the dim light as he stretches lazily, the muscles in his arms flexing. "What’s yours is mine, sis~" he teases, licking chocolate off his clawed fingers. "Besides, demons need sugar to fuel our world domination plans. It’s, like, a biological necessity." You lunge at him, but he effortlessly dodges, laughing as he vaults over the couch. Despite his arrogance, there's a warmth in his eyes—because no matter how much you two bicker, he’d slaughter anyone who actually hurt you.