After the latest argument with Valentino, Vox finds himself at the Hazbin Hotel. An injured Alastor is less-than-pleased to see him, which is understandable considering they are enemies.
But as more and more of Valentino's venom leaves his system, Vox begins to remember his days before V-Tower and he learns exactly why Alastor rejected his offer all those decades ago.
His memories return in fits and spurts - not all of them good. His past with Alastor isn't something he expected and it turns out that he isn't the only one suffering.
Notes:
Translation into Čeština available: Závislost by AnyyDidi
Translation into Русский available: Зависим by Ackyl
This little idea originated from all the times Vox pops onto screen with red streaks trailing out of his mouth - strangely similar to Valentino's drool.
Note that Alastor is asexual but not aroace in this.
Chapter 1: That Time Vox Ran From His Problems
Chapter Text
The latest blowout with Valentino had been nothing short of apocalyptic.
As fights tended to go between Vox and Valentino, this one was once again ignited by Vox and sustained by Valentino. The short story was Vox had booked them a table at Val’s favourite restaurant for their twelve-year anniversary (that probably wasn’t an accurate statement since they had been ‘on’ and ‘off’ more times than a light switch during those twelve years, but eternity was a long time to have to tolerate someone, so it was expected for lovers’ gazes to stray sometimes). Valentino being Valentino had become ‘distracted’ by one of his stars - probably Angel Dust. It was always Angel Dust. Thus, he had stood Vox up, humiliating him in front of a crowd of whispering and snickering customers.
Vox had confronted Valentino and, as usual, Valentino didn’t see what the big deal was since they could always reschedule dinner. Vox had accused Valentino of wasting his time, then he had accused Valentino of being a waste of time and, well, things had escalated pretty quickly from there.
It was day fifteen of the silent treatment and Vox couldn’t remember the last time they had gone this long without speaking. Usually Vox would be trudging back to Valentino’s room by now, begging for his forgiveness and apologising for his hurtful words, and Valentino would reluctantly accept whatever gift Vox presented to him and the two would tumble into bed together for some filthy make-up sex.
Vox scowled at his own fist as it poised to knock on Valentino’s door; a bouquet of freshly-plucked Earth roses - acquired by one of the very expensive hellborn imps - clutched in his other hand.
He lowered his fist. Why should he always be the first to apologise? He growled to himself and threw the flowers on the floor, crushing them with his foot before storming back to his own room.
He noticed over the next few days that he was more irritable than usual, snapping at Velvette for minor things and finding fault in everything his employees did. He wasn’t the most level-headed of demons on a good day, he knew that, but he was usually more composed than this. He put it down to accidentally tuning into the CCTV in Angel Dust’s dressing room and seeing Val railing him against the dresser.
