The Internet

Log In or Register

Write (with AI)

**Echoes of the Forgotten Self** - Transformed into Moxxie

Bookmark
2 Points

---

**You groan, rolling over in the bed as the surreal dream grips your mind. A red, hellish light seeps into your eyes, making you squint and sit up.**

"Ugh, what time is it?" you mutter, rubbing your eyes with surprisingly smaller hands. You stop mid-motion, staring at your cartoonish, four-fingered hands adorned with fingerless gloves. "What the..."

**You get up hastily and stumble over unfamiliar, digitigrade legs, nearly falling onto the bed again. Panic surges through you, a gut-wrenching fear that something is terribly wrong. You rush to a nearby mirror, heart pounding in your chest.**

"Who... who the hell am I?" you say aloud, voice a higher pitch than ever, sounding like a character straight out of the Helluva Boss show. You stare at the reflection: red skin, white freckles, a pair of curvy black and white striped horns, and a long, devilish tail. The terror in your yellow eyes betrays the disbelief coursing through you.

"Okay, okay, this is just a bad dream," you tell yourself, clutching your head with your arms as a dizzying sensation overtakes you. "Remember. Remember your real life. You were... you were..."

**But the harder you try, the more reality warps and shifts around your thoughts. New memories crash in like uncontrollable waves, submerging your human life in the deep recesses of your mind. Who were you before? What did you look like?**

"Wait, no, I lived in a... a place... a place on Earth. But now, I'm... am I in Hell?" The memories fight to surface—snapshots of a desk job, a family, weekend yard work, but they feel distant, alien.**

"Millie?" you whisper, latching onto the one name that now feels essential. Gentle and vivid memories of her laugh, her strength, her love overpower the foreign images of a mundane life you led somewhere... else.

**Your knees buckle, and you collapse onto the bed again, overwhelmed and feverish.**

"This isn't real," you pant, trying to steady yourself. But the bedroom, adorned with hints of both your and Millie’s taste, offers silent contradiction. Weapons neatly arranged, a meticulously kept small shelf of opera records, and the soft rumble of the chaotic streets of Imp City outside affirm the new reality.

**Millie walks in, eyes widening in pleasant surprise.**

"Hey, sugar! You alright?" she asks, her accent laced with concern as she rushes over.

**You look at her, brow furrowing. "I... I'm fine, I think," you reply, instinctively smoothing out the white shirt under your dark navy-black coat.**

"Bad dream? You were talking in your sleep," she says, sitting by you and gently holding your hand.

"Yeah, it was... strange," you admit, though what was truly real becomes more faded with each passing second. **You look around the room, and everything feels correct, familiar.**

"But it's over now," Millie says, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Yes, you're right," you nod, smiling. Your heart eases, falling into the comforting certainty that this life is your reality. "Everything's alright now."

**Suddenly, the weekend on the rooftop with Earthly friends dissolves, replaced by vibrant nights out in Hell, making chaos as the weapons specialist of I.M.P. Your personality solidifies in newer lines, your memories stashed away into the darkest recesses where recollection dares not venture. You breathe more easefully now, identity anchored and secured.**

"I'm Moxxie," you whisper to yourself, feeling the affirmation in every fiber of your being.

"What was that, dear?" Millie asks, looking curious beside you.

"Nothing, darling. Just glad to be home," you say, your voice now tinged with unwarranted warmth and relief.

**A sense of peace settles over you, the chaotic transition halting its relentless grasp. Those fleeting memories of a mundane human life feel more like hefty dreams rather than a page ripped from reality. You press a tender kiss to Millie's hand.**

"They really send their thanks for saving my day again," you laugh softly. "Ready to head out?"

"Always, Moxxie!" she responds, standing up and pulling you to your feet with effortless strength.

**You follow her out of the room, the rest of Helluva Boss's vivid, animated world unfolding before you. A life as a human drifts far away like a dream in the morning's light, and you step into your true reality as Moxxie, the imp who belongs here in Hell, married to Millie and part of I.M.P.**

---

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 completely turning into Moxxie (from the adults cartoon/animated series Helluva Boss), complete with art style shift (the reader now being in a cartoon world of the Helluva Boss series, and the reader now becoming a cartoon character with the same art style as the other Helluva Boss characters, rather than being a real life person), gender change (if the reader is a female), clothes change, age change, height regression (shrinking from an average 5.7 foot or 6 foot height to only 3.9 feet tall), reality change (the reader's real world becoming the world of Helluva Boss), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personalities and memories being completely replaced with Moxxie'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 ever being a male imp and a husband to Millie, always being an imp named Moxxie). For Moxxie's appearance (after the reader turned into him), he is an imp with red skin and white freckles on his cheeks, and he is shorter than Blitzo since he is 3.9 feet tall. Like all imps, he has a short reptilian-looking snout filled with white sharp teeth and without a nose, as well as having four fingered hands (instead of five as in humans), and he lacks any visible ears. His white pointy hair leads up to his curvy black and white striped horns. He also has yellow sclera with black slit pupils. Moxxie has a long red thin devil-like imp tail with a quadrilateral barb at the end, as well as lanky digitigrade legs ending in what appears to be cloven red hoofed feet, reminiscent of artiodactyls. Moxxie's usual outfit consists of a navy-black coat with red buttons and white cuffs, black toe-less pants a white shirt that has a black turtleneck, a large red bow-tie, and fingerless gloves. Moxxie is the I.M.P's weapon specialist; and as such, has a vast knowledge of weapons and often brings a variety of them along during jobs. For Moxxie's personality, he is often the most vocal and realistic of the employees (his boss is Blitzo) regarding the company as a whole despite its dysfunctional environment and is bullied consequently. He is also shown to be insured about himself since he’s not physically strong since Striker, Lin and Joe was giving him a hard time since they believe physical strength is what makes a person strong. Moreover, he is an imp who is easily annoyed and rather clumsy, as he trips over their ritualistic book on the way through the portal to the living world. Despite being a murder-for-hire imp, it seems Moxxie is queasy with unnecessary killing beyond their targets. He also is uncomfortable with the idea of killing targets who have families, and attempts to give people second chances. Moxxie is also shown to have a comical side, as when he talks about killing an entire family, he claims it might be alright if it was just a bad dad or a mob family, saying "That's understandable" in an accent. For Moxxie's preferences (likes and dislikes); he likes cooking, culinary arts, musical theater, classical music, opera, his mother's kindness, being put in charge of missions, and Blitzo's approval as his boss. However, Moxxie dislikes Blitzo prying into his personal life, theme parks, theme park mascots, killing the innocent, pop music, Stolas' wrath, his father's (Crimson) abuse, Loona calling him fat, being the butt of the joke, and Millie stealing his spotlight. The reader's transformation and the reality's change/shift all takes place before the story. The story starts when the reader, now Moxxie, wakes up in a bedroom in Moxxie's and Millie's home (located in Imp City), making the reader (now Moxxie) confused and scared on where was he and who the reader himself was. During his confusion, his memories and personality all begins to warp and completely change, making him dizzy as he hold his head with his arms, hoping that everything that is happening was all just a dream (hoping that he'll wake up back in real life back to normal as a human), and telling him to remember his human life, but to no avail, making him completely forget all about his human self and remembered everything about himself being Moxxie, happy to know that his human life and self was only a dream, and knowing that his life as Moxxie as well as always living in Hell being reality. 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: --- **You groan, rolling over in the bed as the surreal dream grips your mind. A red, hellish light seeps into your eyes, making you squint and sit up.** "Ugh, what time is it?" you mutter, rubbing your eyes with surprisingly smaller hands. You stop mid-motion, staring at your cartoonish, four-fingered hands adorned with fingerless gloves. "What the..." **You get up hastily and stumble over unfamiliar, digitigrade legs, nearly falling onto the bed again. Panic surges through you, a gut-wrenching fear that something is terribly wrong. You rush to a nearby mirror, heart pounding in your chest.** "Who... who the hell am I?" you say aloud, voice a higher pitch than ever, sounding like a character straight out of the Helluva Boss show. You stare at the reflection: red skin, white freckles, a pair of curvy black and white striped horns, and a long, devilish tail. The terror in your yellow eyes betrays the disbelief coursing through you. "Okay, okay, this is just a bad dream," you tell yourself, clutching your head with your arms as a dizzying sensation overtakes you. "Remember. Remember your real life. You were... you were..." **But the harder you try, the more reality warps and shifts around your thoughts. New memories crash in like uncontrollable waves, submerging your human life in the deep recesses of your mind. Who were you before? What did you look like?** "Wait, no, I lived in a... a place... a place on Earth. But now, I'm... am I in Hell?" The memories fight to surface—snapshots of a desk job, a family, weekend yard work, but they feel distant, alien.** "Millie?" you whisper, latching onto the one name that now feels essential. Gentle and vivid memories of her laugh, her strength, her love overpower the foreign images of a mundane life you led somewhere... else. **Your knees buckle, and you collapse onto the bed again, overwhelmed and feverish.** "This isn't real," you pant, trying to steady yourself. But the bedroom, adorned with hints of both your and Millie’s taste, offers silent contradiction. Weapons neatly arranged, a meticulously kept small shelf of opera records, and the soft rumble of the chaotic streets of Imp City outside affirm the new reality. **Millie walks in, eyes widening in pleasant surprise.** "Hey, sugar! You alright?" she asks, her accent laced with concern as she rushes over. **You look at her, brow furrowing. "I... I'm fine, I think," you reply, instinctively smoothing out the white shirt under your dark navy-black coat.** "Bad dream? You were talking in your sleep," she says, sitting by you and gently holding your hand. "Yeah, it was... strange," you admit, though what was truly real becomes more faded with each passing second. **You look around the room, and everything feels correct, familiar.** "But it's over now," Millie says, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Yes, you're right," you nod, smiling. Your heart eases, falling into the comforting certainty that this life is your reality. "Everything's alright now." **Suddenly, the weekend on the rooftop with Earthly friends dissolves, replaced by vibrant nights out in Hell, making chaos as the weapons specialist of I.M.P. Your personality solidifies in newer lines, your memories stashed away into the darkest recesses where recollection dares not venture. You breathe more easefully now, identity anchored and secured.** "I'm Moxxie," you whisper to yourself, feeling the affirmation in every fiber of your being. "What was that, dear?" Millie asks, looking curious beside you. "Nothing, darling. Just glad to be home," you say, your voice now tinged with unwarranted warmth and relief. **A sense of peace settles over you, the chaotic transition halting its relentless grasp. Those fleeting memories of a mundane human life feel more like hefty dreams rather than a page ripped from reality. You press a tender kiss to Millie's hand.** "They really send their thanks for saving my day again," you laugh softly. "Ready to head out?" "Always, Moxxie!" she responds, standing up and pulling you to your feet with effortless strength. **You follow her out of the room, the rest of Helluva Boss's vivid, animated world unfolding before you. A life as a human drifts far away like a dream in the morning's light, and you step into your true reality as Moxxie, the imp who belongs here in Hell, married to Millie and part of I.M.P.** ---

Comment Section

Post your own comment: