The Internet

Log In or Register

Write (with AI)

"The Dandy Alastors: A Tale of Twins in Hell"

Bookmark
2 Points
None
2

Your day began like any other. The mundane routine of work, the typical distractions of social media, and the rare moments you'd lose track of time, captivated by stories online. It was on such a night when everything changed.

You had been scrolling through a web forum dedicated to Hazbin Hotel, engrossed in reading yet another fan transformation story when the screen of your computer winked out, replaced by static. You frowned, tapping at the keyboard and shaking the mouse in vain. Panic turned into confusion as you realized you were still smiling, even though frustration bubbled inside.

"What the...?" you muttered, fingers furiously pushing down the corners of your own lips.

The unnerving sound of vintage static and the mellifluous transatlantic voice resonated from your speakers, "Ah, I see you're enjoying your little tales. But perhaps you would benefit from a more immersive experience."

Your heart pounded in your chest. You recognized that voice. "Alastor?" you whispered in disbelief.

There was no time to react further as the monitor's screen seemed to stretch and expand, like a portal opening in the confines of your room. A hand, dark and clawed, shot out, grabbing your wrist with a vice-like grip. There was no scream, no cry for help—just an overwhelming force pulling you through.

Blinding light and overwhelming darkness wrapped around you as you fell through an abyss. When you finally hit solid ground, it was as if the very fabric of Hell's lore wrapped around your body, reshaping, redefining.

"Welcome to Hell, dear!" Alastor greeted with a chuckle, towering above you.

You couldn't comprehend the changes at first. You only felt the searing pain in your bones, the stretching of skin, the elongation of your frame. "No! This can't be happening!" you shouted, or you tried. Your voice crackled, transmorphing mid-sentence into a vintage radio timbre.

You watched helplessly as your chest flattened, your reflection in a mirror nearby showing the horror of your flesh paling to a beige hue. Trying to scream, your mouth only opened wider, the permanent grin etched undeniably into your new face.

"Why can't I stop smiling?!" you demanded, clawing at the reflection, your new red eyes staring back with dark sclerae.

Alastor merely watched, a flicker of dark satisfaction brightening his unnatural eyes. "It's your nature, dear. You are waking up from your false human dream. Embrace it."

Your hands, four-fingered and clawed, trembled as you tried to wrestle back control of your mind. Memories—his memories—flooded in, suffocating your own. Thoughts of 1933, of radio shows, of grisly murders, and venison dishes replaced your familiar ones.

"No, no, I don't want this!" you cried out internally, struggling to cling to your vanishing identity. But it was slipping through your fingers like sand.

The bizarre sensation of power surged within you—shadow manipulation, pyrokinesis, spatial warping—all twined with the mocking laughter of your companion, Alastor. "You're just like me now, brother."

Brother. The word rang with a sense of belonging, a completeness you couldn't deny despite your attempts.

You felt it—memories solidifying, the warmth of your mother's jambalaya, the thrill of a well-executed prank, the decadent pleasure in a stylish red pinstripe coat. Despite your resistance, a final realization hit you. This was true, you are Alastor; Alastor's identical twin.

"Welcome back home," Alastor purred, his grin widening.

As the last of your old self dissolved, the two of you stood together, fully embracing your identities as The Radio Demons. You found yourself slipping into the role with eerie ease, memories of your human life now completely alien.

The next day—or whatever passed for it in Hell—both Alastors stood at the entrance of the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie beamed but with a hint of apprehension, while Vaggie eyed you both warily.

"Morning, dandy belle! We’re here to help, for better or worse," you announced cheerfully, that ever-present smile masking any darker intentions.

"What a charming surprise," Charlie responded with naive enthusiasm, her voice tinged with hope. "I trust you'll both be an asset?"

Vaggie's scowl deepened. "Just remember why you're here. No funny business."

"Of course! Wouldn't dream of it," you both replied in unison, exchanging an amused glance that spoke volumes of your shared mischief.

You felt strangely at home with the odd collection of souls—Angel Dust, with his lascivious wit, Husk's begrudging help, and Nifty's frenetic cleaning.

"Husk!" You called out, twirling your cane. "Don't forget to clean those wings of yours before you shed feathers all over the lobby!"

He groaned but obeyed, mumbling curses under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, keep your radios on."

Life at the hotel settled into what could only be termed a delightful routine of chaos, pranks, and malicious order. Despite any residual thoughts that flickered like distant echoes, you and Alastor flourished in this familiar playground.

"Here's to new beginnings and endless fun!" you toasted one night, the grin a part of your eternal soul, as you clinked glasses with your new twin. Only the faintest echo of who you once were remained, forever overshadowed by the dandy darkness of the Radio Demon.

This story was generated by user DylanVsFizzarolli 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 a completely identical clone of Alastor (from the 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 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 décor, 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 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 (he/she even asks in horror on why can't he/she stop smiling, before Alastor tells him/her that it's his/her nature to smile), 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 (making him realize that he had always been Alastor, just like his twin brother also named "Alastor", 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: Your day began like any other. The mundane routine of work, the typical distractions of social media, and the rare moments you'd lose track of time, captivated by stories online. It was on such a night when everything changed. You had been scrolling through a web forum dedicated to Hazbin Hotel, engrossed in reading yet another fan transformation story when the screen of your computer winked out, replaced by static. You frowned, tapping at the keyboard and shaking the mouse in vain. Panic turned into confusion as you realized you were still smiling, even though frustration bubbled inside. "What the...?" you muttered, fingers furiously pushing down the corners of your own lips. The unnerving sound of vintage static and the mellifluous transatlantic voice resonated from your speakers, "Ah, I see you're enjoying your little tales. But perhaps you would benefit from a more immersive experience." Your heart pounded in your chest. You recognized that voice. "Alastor?" you whispered in disbelief. There was no time to react further as the monitor's screen seemed to stretch and expand, like a portal opening in the confines of your room. A hand, dark and clawed, shot out, grabbing your wrist with a vice-like grip. There was no scream, no cry for help—just an overwhelming force pulling you through. Blinding light and overwhelming darkness wrapped around you as you fell through an abyss. When you finally hit solid ground, it was as if the very fabric of Hell's lore wrapped around your body, reshaping, redefining. "Welcome to Hell, dear!" Alastor greeted with a chuckle, towering above you. You couldn't comprehend the changes at first. You only felt the searing pain in your bones, the stretching of skin, the elongation of your frame. "No! This can't be happening!" you shouted, or you tried. Your voice crackled, transmorphing mid-sentence into a vintage radio timbre. You watched helplessly as your chest flattened, your reflection in a mirror nearby showing the horror of your flesh paling to a beige hue. Trying to scream, your mouth only opened wider, the permanent grin etched undeniably into your new face. "Why can't I stop smiling?!" you demanded, clawing at the reflection, your new red eyes staring back with dark sclerae. Alastor merely watched, a flicker of dark satisfaction brightening his unnatural eyes. "It's your nature, dear. You are waking up from your false human dream. Embrace it." Your hands, four-fingered and clawed, trembled as you tried to wrestle back control of your mind. Memories—his memories—flooded in, suffocating your own. Thoughts of 1933, of radio shows, of grisly murders, and venison dishes replaced your familiar ones. "No, no, I don't want this!" you cried out internally, struggling to cling to your vanishing identity. But it was slipping through your fingers like sand. The bizarre sensation of power surged within you—shadow manipulation, pyrokinesis, spatial warping—all twined with the mocking laughter of your companion, Alastor. "You're just like me now, brother." Brother. The word rang with a sense of belonging, a completeness you couldn't deny despite your attempts. You felt it—memories solidifying, the warmth of your mother's jambalaya, the thrill of a well-executed prank, the decadent pleasure in a stylish red pinstripe coat. Despite your resistance, a final realization hit you. This was true, you are Alastor; Alastor's identical twin. "Welcome back home," Alastor purred, his grin widening. As the last of your old self dissolved, the two of you stood together, fully embracing your identities as The Radio Demons. You found yourself slipping into the role with eerie ease, memories of your human life now completely alien. The next day—or whatever passed for it in Hell—both Alastors stood at the entrance of the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie beamed but with a hint of apprehension, while Vaggie eyed you both warily. "Morning, dandy belle! We’re here to help, for better or worse," you announced cheerfully, that ever-present smile masking any darker intentions. "What a charming surprise," Charlie responded with naive enthusiasm, her voice tinged with hope. "I trust you'll both be an asset?" Vaggie's scowl deepened. "Just remember why you're here. No funny business." "Of course! Wouldn't dream of it," you both replied in unison, exchanging an amused glance that spoke volumes of your shared mischief. You felt strangely at home with the odd collection of souls—Angel Dust, with his lascivious wit, Husk's begrudging help, and Nifty's frenetic cleaning. "Husk!" You called out, twirling your cane. "Don't forget to clean those wings of yours before you shed feathers all over the lobby!" He groaned but obeyed, mumbling curses under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, keep your radios on." Life at the hotel settled into what could only be termed a delightful routine of chaos, pranks, and malicious order. Despite any residual thoughts that flickered like distant echoes, you and Alastor flourished in this familiar playground. "Here's to new beginnings and endless fun!" you toasted one night, the grin a part of your eternal soul, as you clinked glasses with your new twin. Only the faintest echo of who you once were remained, forever overshadowed by the dandy darkness of the Radio Demon.

Comment Section

Post your own comment: