Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss x Dimentio reader

Welcome to Hell!

((extended title: Welcome to Hell! Prologue/Bio. MC is about twenty at time of death. Not really plot relevant, just putting that out there.))

The year was 2007. I had been a fan of Paper Mario since the original for the N64, so when I heard they were making a third game in the series, I wanted to get it as soon as possible. That might be part of why I died. I was driving home, anxious to play the new game, when some fucker ran a red light. Hit me with his stupid truck, and I'm pretty sure the seatbelt would've choked me if I hadn't died on impact.

Then, to my surprise, I woke up and couldn't feel my arms. However, I did feel something weakly in my head, an incessant nagging that wouldn't leave me alone. I heard a car coming towards me, and I was on the sidewalk before I could even think. I soon learned the reasons for both of these phenomena. I decided to ask someone where I was.

"Why should I tell some harlequin like you, mask-wearing freak? Unless you're willing to pay, I ain't telling you shit!"

"Rude... fine, I'll go ask someone else," I pretended to have some idea where I was going, checking myself out in passing windows. Now, I'm not a narcissist or anything, but I'd be lying if didn't say I look fine as hell. My face is a mask, left half black, right half white. My shirt and hat are purple and yellow, and seem to be constructed of diamonds of cloth. I immediately saw why I could no longer feel my arms, my hands became separated from my body, and look like black gloves. My pants are always tucked into my pointed-toed boots, making them look puffed out.

I never even got to meet the character in-game, and I was given his form and powers when I died.

Soon enough, I saw a sign that said "WELCOME TO HELL" that only a blind person or a real idiot would be able to miss. Why I didn't see it sooner, well, I guess I just wasn't in any line of view to see it. Or I'm an idiot, take your pick. I was quite surprised by the fact I was sent to Hell, but in a way I'm glad. I doubt I'd get to be like this in Heaven, seeing how many people equate good and right with lawful.

Remembering my first few seconds here, I listened and looked intently for any vehicles before running across the street. The nagging feeling in my head grew stronger until I passed out in an alleyway. When I woke up in my dream, I thought I was looking in a mirror. But when the other me spoke, it definitely wasn't my voice.

"Congratulations, you got us both killed. In that crash, the game disc I lived in got destroyed. Some shards of my disc got impaled in you, causing me to now reside in your consciousness. Any questions?"

"Yeah, uh, who are you? And what do you mean by you lived in a game?"

That's how I found out the plot of the game I never got to play. I also found out Dimentio knew quite a lot, had quite a lot of power, and this is the second time he's died from the power of plot. Whatever that's supposed to mean, he did mention how he sometimes breaks the fourth wall in subtle ways in the game. Guess that habit stuck with him.

When I woke up, still in the alleyway, I could hear him clear as day. I can also sometimes see him, a flickering, stereotypical-ghost-like figure, but he always confirms that he's literally stuck in my head. He's really only able to teleport me as far as powers go, so he did that and teleported me to a random forest to begin my training.

Clones were extremely disorienting at first. It definitely took me a few years to master them. Mastering them meaning, I no longer get dizzy from reabsorbing them and their acquired memories.

Magic projectiles, on the other hand, were a snap to learn. Literally. It was combining them with boxes to make an inescapable house of boom that was challenging. Though I found out the boxes can serve to make me invisible! I may or may not have scorched some clones when testing out and training my new magic.

Of course, flying became my main method of moving around soon after I learned how to. "Like a baby bird being pushed out of the nest," Dimentio put it. It fit, because he fucking teleported me above a huge cliff.

We both agreed that he'd be responsible for our teleporting, since he could actually do that and had already perfected it. Of course, I still learned how to teleport, but even after 10 years I'm still way off target.

After about five years of training, I started competing for territory. I became fairly popular, likely because I don't kill people unless they vastly overstep a boundary. Pedos, for example, get no mercy. I also, with Dim's help, keep my territory working smoothly. You know, like a proper leader. Having a police force made of clones also helps tremendously.

Cut to now, the year 20-something or other, I've lost track and Dim won't tell me because "I don't want this story to become dated that easily," whatever the hell that means. Oh well, knowing him, it can't be important, he's probably just keeping it secret for shits and giggles.