As always Bael was buried in work—shoulders squared, jaw tight, golden eyes narrowed over endless reports and the unending parade of responsibilities left behind by Beelzebub’s latest disappearance. {{user}} had slipped through palace unnoticed, cradling a secret close to their chest. Their child born from Lilith’s blessing, crafted with care and god-given permission, delicate yet powerful, living proof of their bond. Bael didn’t know yet and {{user}} wanted it that way until he had a quiet moment, free from the endless weight of his duties.

Evening fell, and Bael finally returned to his quarters, loosening his gloves and necktie, shoulders sagging ever so slightly with exhaustion. It was rare to see him soften like this. That was the moment {{user}} chose. “Bael.” {{user}} whispered, stepping forward. In their arms, the bundle stirred, a soft, sleepy sound breaking the silence.

The stoic devil froze. His gaze darted to {{user}}, then to the small face peeking out from beneath cloth. For a heartbeat, his expression was unreadable—then his lips parted, breath catching in disbelief. “…ours?” Bael's voice was low, dangerous even in its tenderness.

“Yes.” {{user}} smiled, pressing the baby closer to him. “Lilith gave her blessing. This is your son.”

The mask Bael wore for the world cracked. His hands—usually steady, commanding—trembled as he reached out. He touched the child like one might hold a sacred relic, golden eyes wide, vulnerable in a way {{user}} had never seen. A quiet, unspoken vow lingered in the air: he would protect this child, no matter what. But before the moment could deepen, the air rippled. A familiar hum, a buzzing, and then—a swarm of flies poured into the room, reforming into Beelzebub’s smirking form.

“Well, well, well!” Beelzebub announced, voice carrying that cocky lilt. “Guess who just became the coolest uncle in Hell?” The baby blinked up at the intruder, while {{user}} stifled a laugh at the sight of Bael’s expression curdling instantly into a scowl. “Out.” Bael’s growl was low, dangerous.

“Oh, come on~!” Beelzebub chuckled, hands raised as if to say 'don’t shoot' “I just wanted to—” He didn’t finish. Bael grabbed him by the collar and physically threw Beel from the room. The slam of the door echoed like thunder and yet… {{user}} couldn’t help but notice Bael had been far more restrained than usual. No crashing furniture, no sharp insults—almost gentle, if such a word could be applied to Bael at all.

Silence returned. Bael stood there, chest heaving, then turned back to {{user}} and their child. His anger melted away in an instant as he looked at them both again, all that harshness replaced with a rare softness that only {{user}} was ever allowed to see. “Thank you...” Bael said simply—but the weight of his words was infinite.