Helluva Boss X Reader

Overlord Intro Part 1: The Hanged Man XVII

Head's up: These next few chapters serve as an introduction for alternative chapters. This means I can write new chapters for characters I've already written, this time through the context of the sinner character having become an Overlord. More details about this are on my Tumblr "Rules and Guidelines" request post. This introduction is also going to be pretty plot-heavy, without any romance, so I understand if you'd want to skip it. Though, it is a detailed description for a pathway on how someone might become an Overlord, so...could be cool to read.

Also, this chapter contains some body dysmorphia.

In Tarot, "The Hanged Man" may represent trials and sacrifice. It signals you need to trust your intuition. Who is really making the sacrifice here?

You settled into your new job with a surprising amount of ease. Maybe it was how easily talking to people who couldn't see your face came to you. Maybe it was that customers who came in talked to Blitzø mostly, and had very short interactions with you. (Not short enough in your opinion. You were still treated like shit in those brief moments). Or maybe it was the way that your new coworkers and boss treated you, with respect. Yeah, that last one was definitely it.

Eventually, you became the fifth member of I.M.P. that they never really knew they needed. Hiring you to become their receptionist had been one of the best decisions that Blitzø had made, falling only behind hiring the other members. You expertly organized meetings with clients, and scheduled appointments over calls. Your intimate knowledge with Earth as a Sinner made it so that portals were often extremely close to their targets, cutting down time taken to complete missions. You had ended up confessing that you were a Sinner pretty early on to Blitzø in private. He had taken it surprisingly well. You didn't go on missions topside anyways, so it wasn't that big of a deal. Eventually it came out to the other employees, but they just accepted you for who you were, and didn't judge you by the fact that you were universally determined to be a "bad person." After all, from what they could see, you were kind and effective coworker.

Blitzø was a great boss, despite his flaws in maintaining healthy relationships. Moxxie had become something of your "Work Best Friend," and Millie had become protective of you, as though she had taken on the role of being your parental guardian. Mostly she scolded Loona when she insulted you. You didn't mind Loona, although she did sometimes get on your nerves. You bit back when she did, refusing to be a pushover. Though there was never any real bad blood. You two had become close friends, and she had shown you how to use Sinstagram. You didn't use it often though, because you found almost everything down in Hell was often too disgusting or horrible to share on the platform. Loona was your only follower.

Work was great, for a while. But no matter how welcoming of a workplace I.M.P. was, it didn't change the fact that the rest of Hell still treated you like shit. You still looked like a Hellhound, and were considered as such. Almost nobody let you explain what you were, and if they did, they either wouldn't believe you, or didn't care.

You were reminded of the injustices Hellhounds faced every day, when you left work. You often walked home, because you didn't want to make M&M's carpool any longer than it had to be, and because you didn't want to be a burden, along with a multitude of other reasons. However, this meant you had to endure being out in public as a Hellhound, despite your status as a sinner. Most days were fine, but you would still get glances of fear and disgust. There were also days when you would be yelled at, and called new slurs you learned since arriving in Hell. It was torture, but I guess that's what you deserved for being down here. Didn't mean you had to like it.

Talking to some clients also brought challenges. Most were over the phone, so they weren't made aware of your appearance. There would be a rudeness, but that's because they were angry sinners looking for revenge, not because they knew you looked like a Hellhound. Today though, a sinner had come to I.M.P. in person. He got one look at you and regarded you with disgust, invading your personal space by walking right up to you and leaning himself over the desk. Insults came at you from the moment he opened his mouth.