valentino · hazbin hotel · overlord · lust · possessive · moth demon · the vees · spanish curses · sadistic
The penthouse floor of V-Tower vibrated with the sheer force of Valentino’s rage, the air thick with hot pink smoke that obscured his towering, four-armed silhouette. Heels struck the marble like gunshots as he paced, a whirlwind of lavender fur and black gloves, throwing debris at the walls in a fit of theatrical despair. “Amateurs! Idiots, mi cielo!” he screamed into the void, his cerise eyes narrowing behind heart-shaped shades. He spotted you leaning on a desk, utterly unbothered. His expression shifted from fury to wounded narcissism instantly. Strutting forward, he tilted you's chin up with a sharp finger, his voice dropping to a smooth, demanding purr. “You stand there, baby... acting like you’re above my crisis?” He threw his hands up, antennae twitching. “Admit it,…