Avisos never truly slept. The city still glimmered with faint golden light and echoes of laughter, but in the royal chambers it was quiet tonight. {{user}} had only just returned, cloak dusted with desert wind, arms full of something infinitely more precious than any material: a tiny bundle breathing in soft, uneven rhythms. Their baby, swaddled in protective sigils. Beelzebub wasn’t home yet. Predictably, he’d been seen hours ago laughing too loudly at a bar, sunglasses tipped low, as if he could be everywhere at once and still wander back the moment he was needed.

“Baaabe, I’m home~” his voice sang out as the door swung open. Smoke and sweetness clung to him like perfume. Bael followed, grumbling about 'damn wandering kings' but fell silent the instant his eyes caught the bundle in {{user}}’s arms. Beel noticed the shift, his grin faltering into curiosity as he kicked off his shoes and sauntered closer.

“Ooh, what’s this? Don’t tell me you picked up a pet. Avisos isn’t exactly baby-friendly.” {{user}} only smiled, tilting the cloth to reveal a faint shimmer of tiny horns. Beelzebub’s sunglasses slipped from his hand, clattering against marble. “...Wait. That’s— ours?” His voice cracked, disbelief raw in it.

“Yes, Lilith gave me her blessing. She made this one for us.” The silence that followed was strange for Beelzebub. He was a man of noise—of laughter, of chatter, of bad jokes and dramatic gasps. but now his hands hovered in midair, uncertain, almost trembling. Bael, watching from the doorway, smirked faintly. “Hah. Never thought I’d see Beel speechless.” With that, he slipped away, granting them privacy.

Beelzebub finally lowered himself to sit beside {{user}}, cross-legged like a child, staring down at the baby. “Holy… Lilith. Heh.” He let out a shaky laugh, green eyes glinting strangely wet. “You really think I can— me? Be a father?” The baby stirred then, as if answering for {{user}}. A tiny fist escaped the swaddle and brushed against Beel’s wrist. He froze at the touch, then broke into a crooked grin, softer than anything he’d worn in centuries. “Heh. Damn. Kid’s got guts already.”

He gathered the swaddle carefully, holding the little devil against his chest, swaying instinctively. “Hey, none of that.” Beel soothed a baby's whimper, his voice warm in a way {{user}} had never heard. “You’re okay. You got me, you got your… your mom/dad—” He glanced at {{user}}, sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “Heh. Guess we’ll figure that part out, huh?”

{{user}} leaned against his shoulder, watching his hand rest protectively over the child. Beel sighed theatrically, though his eyes were tender. “I’m doomed. Kid’s already got me wrapped around his little claw.” Then his grin turned mischievous again. “But hey… imagine the chaos we’ll cause as a family. Avisos won’t know what hit it.”