You find yourself yawning as you scroll through the endless content on your screen. Your best friend (or perhaps sibling), Alex, lounges beside you, laughing at some meme that fails to elicit more than a faint smile from you. The duality of the digital age both fascinates and horrifies you, and you're heading down a Hazbin Hotel fan-content rabbit hole when the screen goes black.
"What the heck?" Alex sputters. "Did you kill the internet again?"
You shake your head, opening your mouth to retort when a flash of vibrantly crimson light bathes your room.
"Good evening, dear listeners!" Alastor's voice chimes through the air, his tone dripping with sinister cheer. You recognize it immediatelyâhe's stepped out of the corners of fiction into the glaring fluorescent lights of your reality.
Your body feels stiff, as though fear has woven vines around your muscles, rendering you motionless. Alex's laughter has died away, replaced by a stunned, breathless silence.
Alastor folds his hands in front of him, a smile permanently etched into his grotesque yet charismatic visage. "Tonight's broadcast is a special one. A lesson, if you will, about the nature of stories and respect."
Before you or Alex can fully process his words, the world itself seems to ripple. Darkness and crimson light envelop you both, like the closing curtain on a final act.
When you can see again, the familiarity of your room is gone, replaced by an eerie void. You and Alex stand there, suspended in nothingness, as Alastor paces leisurely before you, toying with a thin cane with an old-fashioned microphone attached to it.
"Why..." you begin to ask, but your voice falters.
"Because, my dear," Alastor interjects sharply, "I'm terribly bored. And more importantly, weary of being subjected to trivial transformations by... individuals such as yourselves." His grin widens impossibly as he says, "So why not return the favor?"
Without warning, an overwhelming force courses through your body. You glance at Alex, who appears to be experiencing the same thing, both of you writhing in silent horror as your frames grow taller. Your bones crack and muscles twist, making you stretch to an unnatural height. The agony of transformation melds with a sickening sensation as your clothing warps into Alastor's signature dapper attire.
"P-please, stop!" Alex's voice crackles out, but it no longer sounds like them. Already it has adopted the old-timey broadcaster quality.
You feel your face stretch into a broad, aching smile that your muscles refuse to alter. Your hands instinctively, ineffectually, try pushing your cheeks back to no avail. "Why canât I stop smiling?" Your new voice pleads, tinged with a transatlantic accent as identical to Alastor's as the rest of your unfolding mutations.
"It's your nature to smile, now," Alastor coos sympathetically. "And you can't stop your nature, can you?"
Memories flood your mindâyet theyâre not yours. Broadcasts during a bygone era, gruesome acts committed under shadows, and that peculiar delight in making horrific shows. You fight to cling onto your real identity, but itâs slipping through your fingers like sand. You are Alastor. You always have been.
"Welcome home, my brothers," Alastor's welcoming grin reflects the wavering sight of what remains of âyouâ inside your mind.
You and your other sibling, whom you knew before as Alex, now share identical memories, desires, and that unbearable, everlasting smile. The reality of who you wereâwhat you wereâdissolves completely.
---
Epilogue:
The three identical Alastors stood in the vibrant halls of the Hazbin Hotel, where Charlie busied herself with hopeful reparations. Despite her daunting optimism of rehabilitation and redemption of Hellâs denizens, the three of you found amusement in her endeavor.
"Nifty, my dear, don't forget to clean the chandeliers!" You (or perhaps your sibling) chirped. Holding your cane-microphone with a flourish, you watched the cyclops-like demon dart off with enthused obedience.
Vaggie shot you, Alastor, and her other cloned counterparts a look of distrust. âI still donât trust any of you,â she muttered.
"And we cherish that distrust!â the three Alastors sang in perfect harmony, eliciting your unnervingly synchronized laughter.
Angel Dust sashayed over to the trio of broadcasters. "Still getting used to there being three of you," he teased, tapping one of you playfully on the forehead. "Not bad if you ask me."
"Wait until you see our next show," one of you grinned wider, despite it being impossible given the perpetual smile.
And so the three Alastors lingered in the just-barely-contained chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, familial in their demented unity.
This story was generated by user JesterImp with assistance by one of OpenAIâs 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.
Prompt: Write the POV transformation story of a human reader and his/her also-human friend or human sibling turning into completely identical clones of Alastor (from the adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with gender change (if either the reader and/or friend/sibling is a female, their breasts vanish as their throat gains an Adam's apple to give them a more masculine voice identical to Alastor and their female privates (vagina, ovaries, and uterus) from their crotch/nether region invert itself and pushes out into male private parts (a penis and testicles); however, this is optional and only if either the reader and/or friend/sibling is female before the transformation), voice change (the reader's and his/her friend's/sibling's voice becoming identical to Alastor's voice), instant clothes change (the reader's and his/her friend's/sibling's clothes instantly turning into Alastor's outfit), 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 and his/her friend's/sibling's personalities and memories being permanently and completely replaced with Alastor's personality and memories, despite the reader's and his/her friend's/sibling's best efforts of fighting off the new personality and memories, making them completely forget all about their past selves and remember that they always had been twin brothers of Alastor the Radio Demon (even as human Alastor's twin brothers before their deaths at the same time in 1933 and their immediate arrival in Hell as the Radio Demons), even sharing the same names, which is their real/true selves (unlike their false previous selves)). For Alastor's appearance (after the reader and his/her friend/sibling turned into his clones), 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 theyâre 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 doesnât 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 a first-impression of a good-natured and charming man, wearing a permanently wide grin on his face at all times. His 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. He is noted to be narcissistic, with his love for himself being stated that no one else can measure up to it, and he does not see many people quite up to his level. Alastor is described as a man of duality. He values good manners, affability and intelligence very highly in others, and will actively look down on those who do not meet his standards, however he will often play fast and loose with these arbitrary rules in regards to himself and his own conduct. Alastor has an odd sense of morality, which is described as "not normal", and has been noted to be quite sadistic, even cannibalistic, devouring lesser demons or those that have incurred his anger. Despite this, he keeps close friends with the other cannibals of Hell, including the denizens at the Cannibal Town. His smiling is a very self enforced form of ego and a show of power and dominance; he looks down on anyone who lets their true emotions show, and even when faced with a rival in strength, if they let slip a frown, Alastor will see them as truly weak. His smile is also to be more unpredictable and unnerving, and gives him a feeling of complete control over himself. While Alastor is powerful, he is aware that there are other demons and entities that rival him in terms of power, such as other Overlords. For this reason, he is wary around such demons, as they could potentially harm him if he is not careful. Despite everything, Alastor does genuinely seem to want to help Charlie run the Hazbin Hotel, albeit for his own amusement, and hopes for its failure over siding with her idealism. Alastor also dismisses the idea that redemption is possible as laughable, nevertheless, he fulfills his role as patron as promised, providing the hotel with staff, and protecting Charlie and her business from outside threats. He views the whole endeavor as a fun distraction from his decades of boredom. Despite consistently having a confident and cheerful demeanor, he harbors a vulnerable side that becomes apparent when confronted with reminders of being "chained". In this instance, his facade of certainty crumbles, and he succumbs to panic attack. According to Mimzy (Alastor's friend), when Alastor was alive he would become a "kitten" (not literally a kitten) if he drank enough rye whiskey while jazz music was on. Here are Alastor's preferences (his likes and dislikes); he likes himself (including his own fashion style), smiling, doodling, gossip and drama, invading others' personal space, his mother and her cooking, jazz music, strong liquor, cooking, seeing people fail, playing pranks, bitter tastes (especially those of black coffee), theater, dancing, the Stock Market Crash of 1929, venison, being in charge, Charlie's potential, pineapple on pizza, and making jokes. However, he dislikes Lucifer Morningstar (the king of Hell and Charlie Morningstar's father) and his "tacky" circus dĂŠcor, Susan (a Cannibal Town resident), being touched (including his hair being touched), dogs, frowning, tea, anything sweet, Angel Dust's sexual remarks, being humbled, post-30s' technology, anyone ruining his outfit, being controlled and reminded of it, the idea of the hotel failing, and Mimzy bringing destruction to the hotel. 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 and his/her friend or sibling a lesson, Alastor (by some supernatural means) briefly left the series' Hell and into the real life Earth to kidnap both the reader and friend/sibling and sent them to the world of Hazbin Hotel before he uses supernatural black magic at both of them which turned them into his clones, thus turning both the reader and his/her friend/sibling into Alastor's identical twin brothers (both the reader and his/her friend/sibling notices that their grins were now unnaturally wide and permanent, both of them try to push their grins down with their own hands/fingers to get rid of the smiles in order to frown or show fear but they cannot due to making emotions other than smiling were completely impossible (they even asks in horror on why can't they stop smiling, before Alastor tells both of them that it is their nature to smile), both the reader and his/her friend/sibling also tries to fight those new memories and personality of Alastor flooding their heads, they both are horrified and not wanting to be completely transformed in either body or mind, but are fighting a losing battle, and Alastor tells both of them that this is their true selves and they are waking up from their false human dreams, making both the reader and his/her friend/sibling truly and fully believe in Alastor and realizes that they both had always been Alastors alongside the original Alastor, having been born as humans from the same human parents, enjoying their mother's cooking and their favorite food jambalaya, the trio of Alastors being radio show hosts and serial killers on Earth before the three of them were killed, three 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, three Alastor twins want to help Charlie run the redemption hotel "Hazbin Hotel", albeit for their own amusement), and the reader's and his/her friend's sibling's minds have also been completely replaced with Alastor's mind, before original Alastor welcomes his twin brothers (the reader and his other definite sibling (formerly the reader's human friend/sibling)) back home. In the epilogue, the three Alastors (the original one and the cloned ones (who were once the human reader and his/her friend/sibling)) 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 brothers, while Charlie trusts all three 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 brothers), 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: You find yourself yawning as you scroll through the endless content on your screen. Your best friend (or perhaps sibling), Alex, lounges beside you, laughing at some meme that fails to elicit more than a faint smile from you. The duality of the digital age both fascinates and horrifies you, and you're heading down a Hazbin Hotel fan-content rabbit hole when the screen goes black. "What the heck?" Alex sputters. "Did you kill the internet again?" You shake your head, opening your mouth to retort when a flash of vibrantly crimson light bathes your room. "Good evening, dear listeners!" Alastor's voice chimes through the air, his tone dripping with sinister cheer. You recognize it immediatelyâhe's stepped out of the corners of fiction into the glaring fluorescent lights of your reality. Your body feels stiff, as though fear has woven vines around your muscles, rendering you motionless. Alex's laughter has died away, replaced by a stunned, breathless silence. Alastor folds his hands in front of him, a smile permanently etched into his grotesque yet charismatic visage. "Tonight's broadcast is a special one. A lesson, if you will, about the nature of stories and respect." Before you or Alex can fully process his words, the world itself seems to ripple. Darkness and crimson light envelop you both, like the closing curtain on a final act. When you can see again, the familiarity of your room is gone, replaced by an eerie void. You and Alex stand there, suspended in nothingness, as Alastor paces leisurely before you, toying with a thin cane with an old-fashioned microphone attached to it. "Why..." you begin to ask, but your voice falters. "Because, my dear," Alastor interjects sharply, "I'm terribly bored. And more importantly, weary of being subjected to trivial transformations by... individuals such as yourselves." His grin widens impossibly as he says, "So why not return the favor?" Without warning, an overwhelming force courses through your body. You glance at Alex, who appears to be experiencing the same thing, both of you writhing in silent horror as your frames grow taller. Your bones crack and muscles twist, making you stretch to an unnatural height. The agony of transformation melds with a sickening sensation as your clothing warps into Alastor's signature dapper attire. "P-please, stop!" Alex's voice crackles out, but it no longer sounds like them. Already it has adopted the old-timey broadcaster quality. You feel your face stretch into a broad, aching smile that your muscles refuse to alter. Your hands instinctively, ineffectually, try pushing your cheeks back to no avail. "Why canât I stop smiling?" Your new voice pleads, tinged with a transatlantic accent as identical to Alastor's as the rest of your unfolding mutations. "It's your nature to smile, now," Alastor coos sympathetically. "And you can't stop your nature, can you?" Memories flood your mindâyet theyâre not yours. Broadcasts during a bygone era, gruesome acts committed under shadows, and that peculiar delight in making horrific shows. You fight to cling onto your real identity, but itâs slipping through your fingers like sand. You are Alastor. You always have been. "Welcome home, my brothers," Alastor's welcoming grin reflects the wavering sight of what remains of âyouâ inside your mind. You and your other sibling, whom you knew before as Alex, now share identical memories, desires, and that unbearable, everlasting smile. The reality of who you wereâwhat you wereâdissolves completely. --- Epilogue: The three identical Alastors stood in the vibrant halls of the Hazbin Hotel, where Charlie busied herself with hopeful reparations. Despite her daunting optimism of rehabilitation and redemption of Hellâs denizens, the three of you found amusement in her endeavor. "Nifty, my dear, don't forget to clean the chandeliers!" You (or perhaps your sibling) chirped. Holding your cane-microphone with a flourish, you watched the cyclops-like demon dart off with enthused obedience. Vaggie shot you, Alastor, and her other cloned counterparts a look of distrust. âI still donât trust any of you,â she muttered. "And we cherish that distrust!â the three Alastors sang in perfect harmony, eliciting your unnervingly synchronized laughter. Angel Dust sashayed over to the trio of broadcasters. "Still getting used to there being three of you," he teased, tapping one of you playfully on the forehead. "Not bad if you ask me." "Wait until you see our next show," one of you grinned wider, despite it being impossible given the perpetual smile. And so the three Alastors lingered in the just-barely-contained chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, familial in their demented unity.
Post your own comment: