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Transmogrification of the Reader into Alastor

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The scent of old parchment fills your nostrils as you lay sprawled on your bed, engrossed in another episode of Hazbin Hotel. You've always found Alastor fascinating—a character so vividly designed yet wrapped in enigmatic darkness. However, the moment you turn off the screen, a shiver races down your spine; something feels...off.

The air around you begins to hum with a peculiar frequency, filling your room with a palpable tension. Before you can process the sensation, reality seems to peel away like an old-fashioned film reel. Your surroundings dissolve, shifting from the familiarity of your room to a surreal abyss.

"Ah, there you are. How do you do?" A grin splits the void, and vibrant red eyes pierce the darkness. Alastor's unmistakable voice crackles through the airwaves as if broadcasted directly into your psyche.

Your heart pounds in your chest. "What...what's happening?" you stammer.

"Why, I'm just taking some liberties. After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery—but I must say, I find it rather tiresome." His voice is whimsical, yet there's an underlying edge that chills you to the bone.

Before you can react, the abyss engulfs you. Your body struggles and writhes, but an irresistible force pins you in place. It begins with a heat, searing deep into your core. Your body starts to elongate, muscles pulling and stretching as if you're being reshaped out of molten glass.

Your skin turns a beige hue, smooth as porcelain. Claws sprout from your fingers; you feel their keen edges as they slice through the air involuntarily. Panic pulses in your chest, but your voice fails you.

For a brief moment, your mind is your own.

"No! This isn't—" The cry dies in your throat, twisted into maniacal laughter. Your vision warps, and when it clears, you're looking through eyes not your own. Dark-red sclerae frame your new perspective, radiating malice and dark amusement.

"Marvelous! Now, it's time for the pièce de résistance!" Alastor exclaims, twirling his cane before tapping it lightly against your chest. A shockwave of memories floods your mind—Alastor’s life, his death in 1933, the screams of his victims, the intoxicating power of his radio broadcasts. Your past self tries to claw its way back, memories of your family, friends, your own identity slipping like sand through your fingers.

"Stop! I’m not—I'm not—" you try to plead, but the memories are insidious, taking root and pushing out everything you once knew. The permanent grin contorts your face, making it impossible to scream, to frown, or to resist in any physical way. The inside of your head feels like it's being torn apart and restitched in the image of Alastor's twisted psyche.

"It’s charming how you thought you were someone else," Alastor muses, observing your transformation with unmasked delight. "But no, my dear. You are...me."

Your resistance fades like an old song trapped in the static of a dying signal. You blink once, and the final vestiges of your old self shimmer away. A new set of memories fills the vacuum: a childhood in the early 20th century, your mother's famous jambalaya, the thrill of the hunt, and the unending ambition that led you to become the Radio Demon. Your bifurcated mind solidifies into a singular, dark, and incandescent personality.

Alastor’s wide grin greets your own.

"Welcome back, brother," he says, genuine joy gleaming in his eyes. "Don’t you adore this charming new hellscape we've crafted?"

Strangely, you find yourself agreeing.

**Epilogue:**
Months pass, and you seamlessly meld into the life of the Hazbin Hotel.

"Charlie, darling! What delightful chaos are we orchestrating today?" you chime, your voice carrying that vintage charm, every word a rhythmic melody.

Charlie beams, though Vaggie shoots you a suspicious glare. Angel Dust, ever the mischief-maker, winks while sipping his martini.

"Just keeping the redemption project on track, Al," Charlie responds with unyielding optimism.

"You mean wasting time," Vaggie mutters.

You and your twin, the original Alastor, exchange a conspiratorial glance. Husk, perched at the bar with a drink perpetually in hand, offers a sardonic salute. Nifty rushes through, tidying up with relentless energy.

As you survey the room, the familiarity and alienness blend perfectly. You revel in the power, the influence—every sound, every sight, every taste reaffirming your place as one of Hell's most formidable denizens.

Finally at home.

"Now, shall we begin the broadcast?" you quip to your twin, and both of your wide grins stretch further.

"Of course, brother. Hell waits for no demon." Alastor’s laughter merges with yours, the symphony of your combined power reverberating through the airwaves.

This is your true self, after all.

This story was generated by user LanHikari with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.

Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.

AI Prompts

Prompt: Write the POV transformation story of a human reader turning into an identical clone of Alastor (from an adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female, her breasts vanish as her throat gains an Adam's apple to give her a more masculine voice identical to Alastor and her female privates (vagina, ovaries, and uterus) from her crotch/nether region invert itself and pushes out into male private parts (a penis and testicles); however, this is optional and only if the reader is female), instant clothes change, age change (becoming the age of 30s-40s years old, exactly as left off from Alastor's death from his human life in 1933, thus becoming immortal in the process), height progression (growing from a normal height to 7 feet tall), voice change, and mind/mental change (with the reader's personalities and memories being permanently and completely replaced with Alastor's personality and memories, despite the reader's best efforts of fighting the new personality and memories, making him/her completely forget about his/her past self and only remember being Alastor the Radio Demon). For Alastor's appearance (after the reader turned into his clone), he is a slim (having an unnaturally thin torso, neck, arms, and legs, except his shoulders are broad), dapper sinner demon with beige-colored skin, and usually has an unnaturally broad smile (reaching from each cheek's upper area) full of sharp, yellow teeth (he has no ability to frown due to this permanent smile). He is approximately 7 feet tall. He sports a pinkish-red cropped, angled bob-cut with black tips at the ends and two large, black tipped tufts of hair extending from the top of his head, evoking the ears of a deer. The style has an undercut at the back, and two small black antlers protruding from the crown, which can grow in size in his full demonic form. Alastor's eyes have dark-red sclerae, bright-red irises and thin black pupils (which can change into the shape of radio dials when shifting into his full demon form). He also has four fingers (like all Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss characters), unlike real world humans. His forearms and lower legs fade to dark grey, and he has red hoof-toed feet and red clawed fingers. Alastor wears a red pinstripe coat with dark-red lapels piped with white, which is ragged along the bottom hem. Underneath this he wears a bright red dress-shirt with a black cross on the chest, and long black dress pants with matching bright red cuffs. He also wears a dark-red oval-shaped monocle, rimmed with black, over his right eye. He accessorizes with a black knotted bowtie with a bright red center, black gloves with red at the fingertips, and black pointed-toe boots with red deer hoofprints emblazoned on the soles. Alastor also carries a thin cane with a sentient vintage style microphone attached to it, which he uses to play sound effects and broadcast his voice. His voice also sounds like it is coming from an old-fashioned vintage radio. Alastor has many supernatural powers, such as demon transformation (the ability to turn into a more powerful demon form), flexibility (able to contort his body into numerous unnatural poses), demonic magic (able to cast magic thanks to the high power-level he has accrued in the demon ranking system, this magic takes the visual form of glowing red symbols that resemble Voodoo veve, which float around him), shadow manipulation (able to summon shadows and manipulate them into doing his bidding), spatial warping (able to get around with the help of his shadow, allowing teleportation through this ability), portal creation (able to transport others to his location easily via the portals he makes), pyrokinesis (able to summon small balls of fire for display purpose), phytokinesis (able to make plants wilt with a single stare), manifestation, photokinesis (able to project red glowing light from his eyes as well as his microphone), and outfit alteration (capable of changing the outfits of his targets as well as his own with a snap of a finger). He is also capable of various other abilities including deal-making (as Alastor is known to be a deal-maker demon; deal-maker demons like Alastor can increase their power by dealing in souls, which is a very powerful commodity in hell, so they’re seen as very manipulative and not to be toyed with, deal-making is not something every demon can do, as such it is not to be taken lightly as it doesn’t generally work out well for the other party), broadcasting (when he was a living human, Alastor's profession was as a radio show host, and he continues his broadcasts in Hell as a demon, ensuring that Hell's denizens are aware of his activities over the airwaves, earning him the title of "The Radio Demon"), bilingualism (Alastor can speak English fluently as well as some broken Creole French), cooking (Alastor is noted to be "a big foodie" and mentions having admired his mother's cooking, specifically her Jambalaya), musical/dancing/theatrical talent (Alastor is known to display moderate vocal abilities and excels at dancing, with some people noting tap to be a style he excels in specifically, he also shows a flair for theatrical showmanship), and wide intellect (Alastor is known to be quite a cunning individual, resulting in him accruing a large amount of power through his tricks and deal-making). Alastor stands out from many of the more chaotic residents of hell for his well maintained amiable persona. He gives the first-impression of a good-natured and charming man, wearing a permanently wide grin on his face at all times. Alastor's behavior, mannerisms, and even his voice are similar to an old-fashioned radio announcer and speaks with a transatlantic accent, often using quaint anachronisms such as "the picture show" and refers to Charlie as a "charming demon belle". This playful dandyish exterior, however, obscures a much darker side to him - one with high levels of self-importance - and he will not hesitate to use physical violence when others don't act in line with his very particular values or expectations. The story is that Alastor is getting bored and wanted something new and more entertaining in Hell. Not only that, but most importantly, Alastor is truly getting sick and tired of seeing artwork and stories (which he sees online, despite himself not liking technology made past his human death) of himself getting transformed into other characters and creatures in both body and mind (sometimes from different series/franchise), which Alastor genuinely views as distasteful. So to teach the reader a lesson, Alastor (by some supernatural means) briefly left the series' Hell and into the real life Earth to kidnap the reader and sent him/her to the world of Hazbin Hotel before using supernatural black magic at the reader which turned him/her into his clones, thus turning the reader into Alastor's identical twin brother (the reader notices that his/her grin was now unnaturally wide and permanent, the reader tries to push his/her grin down with his/her hands/fingers to get rid of the smile in order to frown or show fear but cannot due to making emotions other than smiling was completely impossible, the reader also tries to fight those new memories and personality of Alastor flooding the reader's head, the reader is horrified and not wanting to be completely transformed in either body or mind, but is fighting a losing battle, and Alastor tells him/her that this is his true self and he is waking up from his false human dream, making him truly and fully believe in Alastor and realizes that he had always been Alastor alongside the original Alastor, having been born as humans from the same human parents, enjoying their mother's cooking and their favorite food jambalaya, them both being radio show hosts and serial killers on Earth before they were both killed, both Alastor twins arriving in Hell as completely identical sinner demons nicknamed "The Radio Demons", as they continued their radio shows in Hell, and, despite finding Charlie Morningstar's (the princess of Hell) belief in redemption laughable, both Alastor twins want to help Charlie run the redemption hotel "Hazbin Hotel", albeit for their own amusement), and the reader's mind has also been completely replaced with Alastor's mind, before original Alastor welcomes his twin brother (the reader) back home. In the epilogue, the two Alastors (the original one and the cloned one (who was once the human reader)) are in the Hazbin Hotel helping Charlie Morningstar with her redemption hotel ("Hazbin Hotel"), while also interacting with Vaggie (Charlie's girlfriend, who doesn't trust Alastor or his twin brother, while Charlie trusts both Alastors), Angel Dust (an adults/pornographic film actor who's a male spider-like humanoid sinner demon), Husk (a male cat-like humanoid sinner demon with bird-like wings who is a co-worker for Alastor and whose soul is owned by Alastor and his twin brother), and Nifty (a miniscule female cyclops-like humanoid sinner demon who is a co-worker for Alastor and is positively acquainted (Alastor's role having described as having a view of Niffty as like his "obnoxious adopted daughter", being a daughter figure for Alastor despite not being related)). There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking. Also, it is a POV reader story, so it should not be in an author's point of view (my, I, mine, etc), and it should be from the point of view of the reader (you, your, etc)

Response: The scent of old parchment fills your nostrils as you lay sprawled on your bed, engrossed in another episode of Hazbin Hotel. You've always found Alastor fascinating—a character so vividly designed yet wrapped in enigmatic darkness. However, the moment you turn off the screen, a shiver races down your spine; something feels...off. The air around you begins to hum with a peculiar frequency, filling your room with a palpable tension. Before you can process the sensation, reality seems to peel away like an old-fashioned film reel. Your surroundings dissolve, shifting from the familiarity of your room to a surreal abyss. "Ah, there you are. How do you do?" A grin splits the void, and vibrant red eyes pierce the darkness. Alastor's unmistakable voice crackles through the airwaves as if broadcasted directly into your psyche. Your heart pounds in your chest. "What...what's happening?" you stammer. "Why, I'm just taking some liberties. After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery—but I must say, I find it rather tiresome." His voice is whimsical, yet there's an underlying edge that chills you to the bone. Before you can react, the abyss engulfs you. Your body struggles and writhes, but an irresistible force pins you in place. It begins with a heat, searing deep into your core. Your body starts to elongate, muscles pulling and stretching as if you're being reshaped out of molten glass. Your skin turns a beige hue, smooth as porcelain. Claws sprout from your fingers; you feel their keen edges as they slice through the air involuntarily. Panic pulses in your chest, but your voice fails you. For a brief moment, your mind is your own. "No! This isn't—" The cry dies in your throat, twisted into maniacal laughter. Your vision warps, and when it clears, you're looking through eyes not your own. Dark-red sclerae frame your new perspective, radiating malice and dark amusement. "Marvelous! Now, it's time for the pièce de résistance!" Alastor exclaims, twirling his cane before tapping it lightly against your chest. A shockwave of memories floods your mind—Alastor’s life, his death in 1933, the screams of his victims, the intoxicating power of his radio broadcasts. Your past self tries to claw its way back, memories of your family, friends, your own identity slipping like sand through your fingers. "Stop! I’m not—I'm not—" you try to plead, but the memories are insidious, taking root and pushing out everything you once knew. The permanent grin contorts your face, making it impossible to scream, to frown, or to resist in any physical way. The inside of your head feels like it's being torn apart and restitched in the image of Alastor's twisted psyche. "It’s charming how you thought you were someone else," Alastor muses, observing your transformation with unmasked delight. "But no, my dear. You are...me." Your resistance fades like an old song trapped in the static of a dying signal. You blink once, and the final vestiges of your old self shimmer away. A new set of memories fills the vacuum: a childhood in the early 20th century, your mother's famous jambalaya, the thrill of the hunt, and the unending ambition that led you to become the Radio Demon. Your bifurcated mind solidifies into a singular, dark, and incandescent personality. Alastor’s wide grin greets your own. "Welcome back, brother," he says, genuine joy gleaming in his eyes. "Don’t you adore this charming new hellscape we've crafted?" Strangely, you find yourself agreeing. **Epilogue:** Months pass, and you seamlessly meld into the life of the Hazbin Hotel. "Charlie, darling! What delightful chaos are we orchestrating today?" you chime, your voice carrying that vintage charm, every word a rhythmic melody. Charlie beams, though Vaggie shoots you a suspicious glare. Angel Dust, ever the mischief-maker, winks while sipping his martini. "Just keeping the redemption project on track, Al," Charlie responds with unyielding optimism. "You mean wasting time," Vaggie mutters. You and your twin, the original Alastor, exchange a conspiratorial glance. Husk, perched at the bar with a drink perpetually in hand, offers a sardonic salute. Nifty rushes through, tidying up with relentless energy. As you survey the room, the familiarity and alienness blend perfectly. You revel in the power, the influence—every sound, every sight, every taste reaffirming your place as one of Hell's most formidable denizens. Finally at home. "Now, shall we begin the broadcast?" you quip to your twin, and both of your wide grins stretch further. "Of course, brother. Hell waits for no demon." Alastor’s laughter merges with yours, the symphony of your combined power reverberating through the airwaves. This is your true self, after all.

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