The Internet

Log In or Register

Write (with AI)

Metamorphosis to Human Stolas: Embracing Regal Splendor

Bookmark
2 Points
None
2

The book slipped from your hand, landing on the floor with a muted thud. The room around you suddenly felt like it was spinning, the words you'd been reading about Stolas and his origins starting to blur and coalesce in your vision. A wave of nausea rolled through you, making you clutch at the armrests of your chair for support. "What's happening?" you managed to whisper, voice trembling. But your words were swallowed by the growing hum that filled the air, reminiscent of a thousand whispered secrets all at once.

Then, without warning, you felt yourself being pulled, stretched, and reshaped as if your very essence had become malleable. The world blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, and an intense but inexplicable force took hold of you. Your body felt like it was expanding, your bones stretching and your muscles lengthening. You found yourself rising higher in your chair, the back of it now lower against you. "This can’t be real," you thought desperately, but the transformation continued with unyielding momentum.

Your clothes shimmered and changed seamlessly, morphing from your everyday attire to a deep red vest over a gray long-sleeve shirt, complete with a high collar and a light gray puff tie. Dark gray pants formed on your legs, and black shoes appeared on your feet. Even as you struggled to comprehend what was happening, your height soared to nearly six and a half feet. The world around you seemed so much smaller now.

Your hair shifted to a dignified gray, and as you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the glass door, your eyes widened. Staring back at you were a pair of striking eyes, white sclera with red irises, and pupils that reflected tales of ancient knowledge. The face was unfamiliar yet undeniably regal. This wasn’t the face you had seen in the mirror this morning; this was Stolas.

A battle waged within your mind—a fierce struggle to retain your identity. "I’m not him," you repeated to yourself, but the voice in your head grew softer, drowned out by a new, commanding presence. The memories of your own life—your family, friends, dreams, and aspirations—began to slip away like sand through fingers. In their place surfaced memories of wealth, a mansion resplendent with portraits, and an existence woven with intricate ties to Hell's ancient lore.

Your personality was no longer your own. Instead, a flamboyant and dramatic persona took hold. The fact you were once someone else mattered less and less. Regal manners and knowledge of Hell's laws filled your mind. You could feel Stolas's charismatic charm, his intelligence, and his noble yet eccentric mannerisms laying claim to every part of your being.

As the last vestiges of your former self dissolved, a powerful certainty settled over you—an undeniable truth that you had always been Stolas. You raised a hand, marveling at the elegant fingers, adorned with rings of silver and rubies. "Yes, this is right. This is how it is meant to be," you mused, a smile curling your lips.

The room around you, once a simple living space, now felt profoundly grandiose, an extension of your distinguished presence. You blinked and realized with clarity that you had important tasks to oversee, rituals to study, and perhaps a visit to make to a certain imp. Where hesitation once was, now there was only confidence.

You picked up a pair of red-lensed glasses and placed them on your forehead, looking through the window at the night sky with satisfaction. The person you once were, their life and existence, was a distant echo. The present, with all its complexities, called to you. And as Stolas, you embraced it with open arms, ready to indulge in both its regal splendor and tumultuous thrills.

"Ah, another beautiful evening," you said aloud, your voice rich and melodic. "Soon, I shall dive into those delightful soap operas. But first, perhaps a message to Blitzo would be in order. Oh, this is going to be such fun!"

This story was generated by user DylanVsFizzarolli7 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 instantly turning into a human version of Stolas (from the adults cartoon/animated series Helluva Boss), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female), instant clothes change, age change, height progression (increasing in height from an average 5.7-6 foot height to almost 6.5 feet tall), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personalities and memories being completely replaced with Stolas's personality and memories, despite the reader's best efforts of fighting his/her new personality and memories, making the reader completely forget he was a normal person, even forgetting that the transformation that just occurred seconds ago, and only remembered that he had always been a man named Stolas, which is his real/true self). For Stolas's human appearance (after the reader turned into him), he is is much shorter than his goetia (owl-like demon) form, while still relatively rather tall compared to other humans. He only has one set of eyes (two eyes) instead of two sets of eyes (four eyes), which have white sclera with red irises, and a pair of pupils which he normally lacks in his regular form. He lacks any type of plumage so he instead has gray hair atop his head. His outfit (when he's a human) consists of a deep red vest with coat-tails reminiscent of his tail feathers, over a gray long-sleeve, high-collar shirt with a light gray puff tie. His pants are dark gray and he now has black shoes. During the episode "Seeing Stars" Stolas picks up a pair of red lensed glasses that he wears on his forehead, being reminiscent of his regular forms second set of eyes. Here is Stolas's personality; Stolas gives the immediate impression of someone regal and ostentatious, as would be expected for a royal of his station. He dresses in clothing befitting his role, and his mansion is decadent, containing many large, elaborately framed portraits of himself and his small family. Underneath these dignified trappings, however, Stolas is shown to be a flamboyant, dramatic, eccentric, and often giddy person. Someone who does not take his royal reputation as seriously as the people around him expect him to, and is prone to act quickly on his easily excitable emotions. He is also shown to be very intelligent, even as a child, due to being a bibliophile and having incredible knowledge of many things including the laws of Hell. Stolas can also often get caught up in pursuing his own present interests and fails to pay attention to the more pressing issues around him, including the feelings and needs of others. He has even dismissed their wishes under the belief that, as long as he was happy, everybody else was as well, even when he was told otherwise. He also has trouble expressing his emotions when facing bigger dilemmas such as having a hard time explaining to Octavia that his marriage was never good or standing up to Stella before his affair and having trouble talking to Blitzo about his true feelings toward him. Although, these tendencies can make him appear selfish and even airheaded to some people in his life, he isn't oblivious to correction or regret and this is something he makes an effort to improve on, specifically in regards to his beloved daughter, Octavia. Stolas is also shown to be very lonely, seemingly isolated and cloistered in his position. In the episode "The Circus", when he was a child, he told a young Blitzo that he never had anybody to share his books with, further supporting this notion. Although, he is married, it is clear that he and his wife are not on affectionate terms, and that their marriage is implied to have been somewhat cold for a long while. Stolas has, perhaps surprisingly, an equally romantic and explicit side, something he looks to indulge in with Blitzo, an imp, considered 'lower-class' among his peers, whom he is currently engaged in a complicated extramarital affair with. He is also very uncensored in discussing his many bedroom preferences, using highly explicit and flowery language, sometimes in front of others, and is interested in aspects of BDSM, such as bondage. Stolas is invested in Hell's soap operas as comfort shows, enjoys the process of getting ready for rendezvous, and swoons over idealized ideas of amorous romance. As with many demons, and the denizens of Hell in general, Stolas has a somewhat questionable moral compass and is implied to interfere with the affairs of humans for his own benefit. He can easily cross the boundary between Hell and the living world with his own personal grimoire, and seems to enjoy striking fear into humans. Despite this, he is also gentle and nurturing to those he cares for, showing open devotion to his daughter, concern towards Blitzo and his coworkers, as well as attentiveness to his large and lavish garden of carnivorous Hell-plants. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story (including quotes from the reader) 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 book slipped from your hand, landing on the floor with a muted thud. The room around you suddenly felt like it was spinning, the words you'd been reading about Stolas and his origins starting to blur and coalesce in your vision. A wave of nausea rolled through you, making you clutch at the armrests of your chair for support. "What's happening?" you managed to whisper, voice trembling. But your words were swallowed by the growing hum that filled the air, reminiscent of a thousand whispered secrets all at once. Then, without warning, you felt yourself being pulled, stretched, and reshaped as if your very essence had become malleable. The world blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, and an intense but inexplicable force took hold of you. Your body felt like it was expanding, your bones stretching and your muscles lengthening. You found yourself rising higher in your chair, the back of it now lower against you. "This can’t be real," you thought desperately, but the transformation continued with unyielding momentum. Your clothes shimmered and changed seamlessly, morphing from your everyday attire to a deep red vest over a gray long-sleeve shirt, complete with a high collar and a light gray puff tie. Dark gray pants formed on your legs, and black shoes appeared on your feet. Even as you struggled to comprehend what was happening, your height soared to nearly six and a half feet. The world around you seemed so much smaller now. Your hair shifted to a dignified gray, and as you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the glass door, your eyes widened. Staring back at you were a pair of striking eyes, white sclera with red irises, and pupils that reflected tales of ancient knowledge. The face was unfamiliar yet undeniably regal. This wasn’t the face you had seen in the mirror this morning; this was Stolas. A battle waged within your mind—a fierce struggle to retain your identity. "I’m not him," you repeated to yourself, but the voice in your head grew softer, drowned out by a new, commanding presence. The memories of your own life—your family, friends, dreams, and aspirations—began to slip away like sand through fingers. In their place surfaced memories of wealth, a mansion resplendent with portraits, and an existence woven with intricate ties to Hell's ancient lore. Your personality was no longer your own. Instead, a flamboyant and dramatic persona took hold. The fact you were once someone else mattered less and less. Regal manners and knowledge of Hell's laws filled your mind. You could feel Stolas's charismatic charm, his intelligence, and his noble yet eccentric mannerisms laying claim to every part of your being. As the last vestiges of your former self dissolved, a powerful certainty settled over you—an undeniable truth that you had always been Stolas. You raised a hand, marveling at the elegant fingers, adorned with rings of silver and rubies. "Yes, this is right. This is how it is meant to be," you mused, a smile curling your lips. The room around you, once a simple living space, now felt profoundly grandiose, an extension of your distinguished presence. You blinked and realized with clarity that you had important tasks to oversee, rituals to study, and perhaps a visit to make to a certain imp. Where hesitation once was, now there was only confidence. You picked up a pair of red-lensed glasses and placed them on your forehead, looking through the window at the night sky with satisfaction. The person you once were, their life and existence, was a distant echo. The present, with all its complexities, called to you. And as Stolas, you embraced it with open arms, ready to indulge in both its regal splendor and tumultuous thrills. "Ah, another beautiful evening," you said aloud, your voice rich and melodic. "Soon, I shall dive into those delightful soap operas. But first, perhaps a message to Blitzo would be in order. Oh, this is going to be such fun!"

Comment Section

Post your own comment: