"Revelation of the Radio Demon" - Reader to Alastor Transformation
1 Points
You couldn't believe what you were reading. Another story, another piece of artwork with Alastor turning into someone or something else. It was amusing at first, but lately, it had been grating on your nerves. Clearly, you weren't the only one getting annoyed, but the level of frustration Alastor must be feeling was probably astronomical. Carefully you closed your laptop and stood up, trying to shake off the lingering irritation.
Unbeknownst to you, Alastor himself was watching, his sharp yellow teeth glinting under the dim light of his realm. He had reached the end of his patience. "Oh, how delightful," Alastor mused, tapping his cane rhythmically on the ebony floor. "But what if I put the shoe on the other foot, hm?"
You wandered into your kitchen for a drink, thinking a bit of distraction might help. You never heard the hum of vintage static furniture begin to shift behind you, the air swirling with an electric charge. You definitely didn't see the smirk manifesting in the dark corners of your apartment. You were lost in your thoughts when a voice came from behind you - a voice that sounded like it came from an old-fashioned radio broadcast, deep and tinged with mirthful malice.
"Welcome to the show, my dear listener," the voice announced.
You spun around, heart pounding. Before you stood Alastor himself, in all his nightmarish glory. With a swift motion of his cane, reality itself seemed to tear apart. You felt yourself being pulled from your world, the familiar sight of your kitchen fracturing into an eerie red landscape.
"What's... happening?!" you yelled, struggling to keep your ground.
"Just a bit of fun," Alastor responded, his eyes glinting with malice. "You like stories, don't you? Well, here's one you'll never forget!"
The transformation began subtly at first, then ramped up with terrifying speed. Your height surged, muscles and bones expanding until you towered at a daunting 7 feet. Your frame grew unnaturally thin, a paragon of unnatural physiology.
"No! Stop this!" you begged, your voice beginning to distort into a deep tone, mirroring Alastor's vintage quality.
"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport," Alastor chuckled. "This is just the beginning!"
Your flesh adopted a beige hue, your toes and fingers elongating into red clawed forms. The pain was unbearable, yet the worst was yet to come. Your face contorted in an odd manner as your mouth stretched into a wide, permanent smile filled with razor-sharp yellow teeth.
You stumbled backward, clawing at your unyielding grin. "Why can't I frown?!" you thought, the smile forever stitched into your face. Pinkish-red hair sprouted from your head, the tips darkening in cadence with Alastor's own, black antlers pushing through your scalp. Your eyes transformed, sclera turning dark-red with bright-red irises and thin pupils.
You looked down, horrified, to see the dapper red pinstripe coat enveloping your torso, a bright red dress-shirt underneath it. Black dress pants fitted snugly against your legs, bright red cuffs matching your now devilishly elegant outfit.
"No... no, this can't be happening!" you cried internally, your mind still clinging to your old self.
"Ah, there it is," Alastor remarked, tapping his walking cane against a sentient vintage microphone. "The final touch: your mind."
Memories of your human life began to fade, replaced with images and thoughts that weren't your own. You tried to resist, to hold onto who you had always been, but the new thoughts were insistent, smothering your old self.
"I... I've always been Alastor... haven't I?" you found yourself thinking, the struggle growing weaker.
The transformation was all-consuming. Soon your mind was filled with a new past: the eerie charms of radio, the insidious deal-making, the old French Creole echoes of a mother’s kitchen.
"Perfect," Alastor mused, satisfied. He walked up to you, extending a hand. "Well, now that you're settled, welcome... Alastor."
You accepted his hand reflexively, as though you had never been anyone else. You looked at him, the memories of your human self far beyond reach.
"Thank you," you said in a voice that sounded unmistakably like his, and indeed it was. Every iota of who you once were was gone, replaced by the sinister charm and endless cunning of Alastor, the Radio Demon.
This story was generated by user DylanVsFizzarolli5 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 a POV transformation story of a mortal human reader turning into an identical clone of Alastor (from the adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female), 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, 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). 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. What finally annoyed him is seeing artwork and stories (online) of himself getting turned into other characters in both body and mind (sometimes from different series, such as a story with Alastor becoming May from Pokemon, a comic with Alastor becoming Helsa von Eldritch also from Hazbin Hotel, and a story with Alastor becoming an ant queen), which he is getting sick and tired of and he views these stories and artwork as distasteful. So to teach the reader a lesson, Alastor (by some supernatural means) briefly left the series' Hell and into real life 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 tried to fight those new memories and personality, not wanting himself/herself to be completely transformed in either body or mind, but is fighting a losing battle (the reader also tries to push or pull his/her permanent smile to a frown or any facial expression other than smiling but his/her face is forever stuck in a smile) and his/her mind been completely replaced with Alastor's mind (the voice echoes in the reader's mind and confirms that the reader had never been a normal human on Earth and had always been Alastor the Radio Demon)). The transformation is permanent (meaning it is forever) and is completely irreversible. 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: You couldn't believe what you were reading. Another story, another piece of artwork with Alastor turning into someone or something else. It was amusing at first, but lately, it had been grating on your nerves. Clearly, you weren't the only one getting annoyed, but the level of frustration Alastor must be feeling was probably astronomical. Carefully you closed your laptop and stood up, trying to shake off the lingering irritation. Unbeknownst to you, Alastor himself was watching, his sharp yellow teeth glinting under the dim light of his realm. He had reached the end of his patience. "Oh, how delightful," Alastor mused, tapping his cane rhythmically on the ebony floor. "But what if I put the shoe on the other foot, hm?" You wandered into your kitchen for a drink, thinking a bit of distraction might help. You never heard the hum of vintage static furniture begin to shift behind you, the air swirling with an electric charge. You definitely didn't see the smirk manifesting in the dark corners of your apartment. You were lost in your thoughts when a voice came from behind you - a voice that sounded like it came from an old-fashioned radio broadcast, deep and tinged with mirthful malice. "Welcome to the show, my dear listener," the voice announced. You spun around, heart pounding. Before you stood Alastor himself, in all his nightmarish glory. With a swift motion of his cane, reality itself seemed to tear apart. You felt yourself being pulled from your world, the familiar sight of your kitchen fracturing into an eerie red landscape. "What's... happening?!" you yelled, struggling to keep your ground. "Just a bit of fun," Alastor responded, his eyes glinting with malice. "You like stories, don't you? Well, here's one you'll never forget!" The transformation began subtly at first, then ramped up with terrifying speed. Your height surged, muscles and bones expanding until you towered at a daunting 7 feet. Your frame grew unnaturally thin, a paragon of unnatural physiology. "No! Stop this!" you begged, your voice beginning to distort into a deep tone, mirroring Alastor's vintage quality. "Oh, don't be such a spoilsport," Alastor chuckled. "This is just the beginning!" Your flesh adopted a beige hue, your toes and fingers elongating into red clawed forms. The pain was unbearable, yet the worst was yet to come. Your face contorted in an odd manner as your mouth stretched into a wide, permanent smile filled with razor-sharp yellow teeth. You stumbled backward, clawing at your unyielding grin. "Why can't I frown?!" you thought, the smile forever stitched into your face. Pinkish-red hair sprouted from your head, the tips darkening in cadence with Alastor's own, black antlers pushing through your scalp. Your eyes transformed, sclera turning dark-red with bright-red irises and thin pupils. You looked down, horrified, to see the dapper red pinstripe coat enveloping your torso, a bright red dress-shirt underneath it. Black dress pants fitted snugly against your legs, bright red cuffs matching your now devilishly elegant outfit. "No... no, this can't be happening!" you cried internally, your mind still clinging to your old self. "Ah, there it is," Alastor remarked, tapping his walking cane against a sentient vintage microphone. "The final touch: your mind." Memories of your human life began to fade, replaced with images and thoughts that weren't your own. You tried to resist, to hold onto who you had always been, but the new thoughts were insistent, smothering your old self. "I... I've always been Alastor... haven't I?" you found yourself thinking, the struggle growing weaker. The transformation was all-consuming. Soon your mind was filled with a new past: the eerie charms of radio, the insidious deal-making, the old French Creole echoes of a mother’s kitchen. "Perfect," Alastor mused, satisfied. He walked up to you, extending a hand. "Well, now that you're settled, welcome... Alastor." You accepted his hand reflexively, as though you had never been anyone else. You looked at him, the memories of your human self far beyond reach. "Thank you," you said in a voice that sounded unmistakably like his, and indeed it was. Every iota of who you once were was gone, replaced by the sinister charm and endless cunning of Alastor, the Radio Demon.
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