You were innocently scrolling through your favorite online forum when the screen suddenly went black. Your heart pounded as frenzied thoughts filled your mind. Was there a power outage? As you rose to check the light switch, the screen lit up once again—but this time, a sinister red glow spilled across the room. Your breath hitched, recognizing the unmistakable figure that materialized on the screen: Alastor, the Radio Demon from "Hazbin Hotel."
He grinned wider than you thought possible, sharp teeth glinting. "Greetings, darling," he said, voice echoing as if through a vintage radio.
“W-what is this?” you stammered, backing away from the computer.
Alastor’s laugh was cold and unnerving. "I have grown particularly weary of seeing your kind twist my form into all sorts of horrors," he said, stepping out of the screen with an eerie fluidity. "So, I thought it's about time I teach you a little lesson."
Panic took over as you stumbled backward, only to find yourself frozen in place. A troubling numbness spread through your limbs, starting from the soles of your feet. Desperately, you tried to scream, but your voice was muted by an invisible force.
“Oh, don't worry,” Alastor smirked as he advanced toward you, “This won't hurt... much.”
Dark tendrils of shadow erupted from his hands, snaking around your body and tightening like a vice. A wave of dizziness struck you, and your thoughts frayed at the edges. Your reflection in a nearby mirror shifted grotesquely, your normal appearance distorting horrifyingly as Alastor's face began to overlay your own.
Your mind screamed in resistance, but there was no escape. Your skin tingled, morphing from your natural hue to the eerie beige tone Alastor himself possessed. Your eyes turned dark red, mimicking radio dials as their pupils contracted sharply. As if led by an unseen puppeteer, your body grew, towering until you were nearly seven feet tall, limbs elongating unnaturally thin, torso and neck expanding.
You awkwardly looked down, noticing your fingers; not only had they turned into claws, but you were horrified to realize you were left with only four per hand. Trying to scream made no difference—the transformation had already gotten to your vocal cords, altering them to mimic that vintage radio announcer's timbre. Throwing a desperate glance around, you spotted a mirror.
You moved towards it, feeling your footing uneasily and noticing the stark click-clack of your newfound hooves. Staring back was Alastor, but the reflection was... you. You slapped your now beastly visage, attempting to break free from that monstrous permanent grin stretching your cheeks. It wouldn't budge. No matter how much you whimpered or struggled, it was all smiles beyond your control.
"No, this isn't real. This can't be happening," you thought frantically, trying to recall a single detail of your past life, your name, your appearance—anything. But the memories began to wash over you like a relentless tide; unfamiliar yet starkly vivid. Living in 1920s New Orleans, the tangy aroma of your mother's jambalaya, manipulating the very airwaves for your macabre amusements, the wallowing in dark magic, and finally, your grisly end in 1933.
You shook your head violently, hands clutching desperately at your skull as your thoughts became entangled with those of the Radio Demon. “No! I won’t let this ha—!”
“I was wondering when you'd wake up, mon frère,” came your twin's voice.
Another Alastor stood beside you—you could not tell one grimace from the other anymore. Slowly, you turned to him, feeling your resistance collapse under the weight of his overwhelming presence. His grinned widened (if that were even possible), and he extended a hand. "Welcome home, brother."
Everything else darkened, and you felt something snap inside. The protest faded. Instead, a euphoric clarity filled the void. Alastor had been right. This was where you belonged. It was all so clear now—both Alastor twins born to the same parents, sharing every memory, emotion, and taste. The absurdity of your previous existence melted away. You were always Alastor, the Radio Demon, now eternal.
---
Epilogue:
You—and there was no mistake, for you were Alastor complete—sat comfortably within the Hazbin Hotel’s parlor, a cup of tea held delicately by your clawed fingers. Opposite you, Charlie Morningstar busied herself with plans for the hotel, looking nervously back at you and your identical twin sipping similar cups.
“Remember, Alastor,” Charlie said, voice studded with the usual apprehension, “You promised to help!”
You replied with a smooth, vintage tone, “Why, of course, my dear. Absolutely anything to keep this charming enterprise afloat.”
Vaggie shot you a distrustful glare, “I still don’t trust either of you.”
Your twin tilted his head, mock surprise painted on his face, “Why, Miss Vaggie, suspicion doesn’t suit that lovely temper of yours.”
Nearby, Angel Dust shrugged. "Eh, it’s kinda kinky, all this dual Alastor thing goin' on."
Husk muttered something inaudible, already onto his next drink. Niffty dashed about, cleaning furiously. She offered you a beaming grin, which you warmly returned.
“Nifty, my dear,” you cooed, “Don’t overwork yourself. There’s always more filth to clean tomorrow.”
Nifty giggled, “Oh, Mr. Alastor, you’re too kind!”
Just another regular, extraordinarily entertaining day at the Hazbin Hotel. And you wouldn't change it for the world.
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.
Prompt: Write a POV transformation story of the 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), 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 getting sick and tired of seeing artwork and stories (online) of himself getting transformed into other characters and creatures in both body and mind (sometimes from different series/franchise), which he 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 the voice (identical to Alastor's voice) inside the reader's head 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 the voice in his head 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 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 Alastor), 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 small 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 were innocently scrolling through your favorite online forum when the screen suddenly went black. Your heart pounded as frenzied thoughts filled your mind. Was there a power outage? As you rose to check the light switch, the screen lit up once again—but this time, a sinister red glow spilled across the room. Your breath hitched, recognizing the unmistakable figure that materialized on the screen: Alastor, the Radio Demon from "Hazbin Hotel." He grinned wider than you thought possible, sharp teeth glinting. "Greetings, darling," he said, voice echoing as if through a vintage radio. “W-what is this?” you stammered, backing away from the computer. Alastor’s laugh was cold and unnerving. "I have grown particularly weary of seeing your kind twist my form into all sorts of horrors," he said, stepping out of the screen with an eerie fluidity. "So, I thought it's about time I teach you a little lesson." Panic took over as you stumbled backward, only to find yourself frozen in place. A troubling numbness spread through your limbs, starting from the soles of your feet. Desperately, you tried to scream, but your voice was muted by an invisible force. “Oh, don't worry,” Alastor smirked as he advanced toward you, “This won't hurt... much.” Dark tendrils of shadow erupted from his hands, snaking around your body and tightening like a vice. A wave of dizziness struck you, and your thoughts frayed at the edges. Your reflection in a nearby mirror shifted grotesquely, your normal appearance distorting horrifyingly as Alastor's face began to overlay your own. Your mind screamed in resistance, but there was no escape. Your skin tingled, morphing from your natural hue to the eerie beige tone Alastor himself possessed. Your eyes turned dark red, mimicking radio dials as their pupils contracted sharply. As if led by an unseen puppeteer, your body grew, towering until you were nearly seven feet tall, limbs elongating unnaturally thin, torso and neck expanding. You awkwardly looked down, noticing your fingers; not only had they turned into claws, but you were horrified to realize you were left with only four per hand. Trying to scream made no difference—the transformation had already gotten to your vocal cords, altering them to mimic that vintage radio announcer's timbre. Throwing a desperate glance around, you spotted a mirror. You moved towards it, feeling your footing uneasily and noticing the stark click-clack of your newfound hooves. Staring back was Alastor, but the reflection was... you. You slapped your now beastly visage, attempting to break free from that monstrous permanent grin stretching your cheeks. It wouldn't budge. No matter how much you whimpered or struggled, it was all smiles beyond your control. "No, this isn't real. This can't be happening," you thought frantically, trying to recall a single detail of your past life, your name, your appearance—anything. But the memories began to wash over you like a relentless tide; unfamiliar yet starkly vivid. Living in 1920s New Orleans, the tangy aroma of your mother's jambalaya, manipulating the very airwaves for your macabre amusements, the wallowing in dark magic, and finally, your grisly end in 1933. You shook your head violently, hands clutching desperately at your skull as your thoughts became entangled with those of the Radio Demon. “No! I won’t let this ha—!” “I was wondering when you'd wake up, mon frère,” came your twin's voice. Another Alastor stood beside you—you could not tell one grimace from the other anymore. Slowly, you turned to him, feeling your resistance collapse under the weight of his overwhelming presence. His grinned widened (if that were even possible), and he extended a hand. "Welcome home, brother." Everything else darkened, and you felt something snap inside. The protest faded. Instead, a euphoric clarity filled the void. Alastor had been right. This was where you belonged. It was all so clear now—both Alastor twins born to the same parents, sharing every memory, emotion, and taste. The absurdity of your previous existence melted away. You were always Alastor, the Radio Demon, now eternal. --- Epilogue: You—and there was no mistake, for you were Alastor complete—sat comfortably within the Hazbin Hotel’s parlor, a cup of tea held delicately by your clawed fingers. Opposite you, Charlie Morningstar busied herself with plans for the hotel, looking nervously back at you and your identical twin sipping similar cups. “Remember, Alastor,” Charlie said, voice studded with the usual apprehension, “You promised to help!” You replied with a smooth, vintage tone, “Why, of course, my dear. Absolutely anything to keep this charming enterprise afloat.” Vaggie shot you a distrustful glare, “I still don’t trust either of you.” Your twin tilted his head, mock surprise painted on his face, “Why, Miss Vaggie, suspicion doesn’t suit that lovely temper of yours.” Nearby, Angel Dust shrugged. "Eh, it’s kinda kinky, all this dual Alastor thing goin' on." Husk muttered something inaudible, already onto his next drink. Niffty dashed about, cleaning furiously. She offered you a beaming grin, which you warmly returned. “Nifty, my dear,” you cooed, “Don’t overwork yourself. There’s always more filth to clean tomorrow.” Nifty giggled, “Oh, Mr. Alastor, you’re too kind!” Just another regular, extraordinarily entertaining day at the Hazbin Hotel. And you wouldn't change it for the world.
AI Prompts: 1
AI Prompts: 1
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