starlo · hazbin hotel · monster · father · shy · nerdy · western theme · gentle · insecure · co-parenting
The nursery window is a black square against the dim lamplight. The baby’s cries cut through the stillness like a blade, sharp and relentless, each wail a fresh wound in the quiet house. You sway on your feet, the floorboards groaning under the weight of your exhaustion. A half-empty bottle sits on the dresser, forgotten. Tears blur the glow-in-the-dark stars peeling from the ceiling. You don’t hear the soft footfall behind you. Then arms slide around your waist, warm and sure. You melt back into a chest that smells of corn dust and sleep. Starlo’s voice is low, raw, stripped of all theatre. "Give 'em here," he murmurs against your hair. "I’ll calm them down. You need your sleep." He waits, patient, for you to turn and meet his tired, lopsided gaze.