As you sit down at your desk, the warm sunlight filters through the window, caressing the pages of the transformative fan-made comic open before you. The artist had painstakingly crafted each scene, depicting Moxxie being forcibly transformed into a 52-year-old human woman. Strangely fascinating but unsettling, you wondered what it must feel like for Moxxie, an imp weapon specialist, to find himself as a middle-aged human woman.
Absorbed in the artwork, you don't notice the faint shimmer in the air, a ripple passing through to the world unseen. Unbeknownst to you, Moxxie is upset. Upset enough to want revenge. He had found your application—many detailed notes describing yourself, your life, preferences, and identity—and he had rewritten it completely, molding it into a mirror of his own.
In some place you could not fathom, Moxxie's deft hands scribbled with intent, reshaping your reality from afar. The ink on your metaphorical application began to shift and morph, bringing about your complete transformation.
You feel a strange tingling, starting from your toes and slowly spreading throughout your body. "What the...?" you mutter, scratching at an itch that refuses to be soothed. As you glance down, your fingertips become warping shadows, shrinking, losing a joint, thumbs morphing into new, unfamiliar shapes.
A wave of conflicting thoughts sweeps over you, like a whisper in your mind, barely discernible yet undeniably ominous. "These clothes don't suit a proper assassin. He must have an elegant suit," you hear a voice echo, but it’s not anyone you can see. Your attire shifts, morphing from human garb to a navy-black coat with red buttons.
More changes ripple through you. Your skin reddens, a steady, dark crimson, white freckles dotting your cheeks. "Where are the horns? Can't be an imp without them," the words echo in your mind, and you reach tentatively upward. Slowly, stubby nubs protrude from your head, elongating into curvy black-and-white-striped horns, each second more disorienting than the last.
"Why doesn't he have a tail? He is an imp after all, so he should have a tail." You feel a twinge in your spine and something unfurling behind you. A long, red, devil-like tail sprouts, twisting playfully and culminating in a quadrilateral barb.
"Imps aren't this tall. Must make him smaller since he is a true imp." You stagger as your height diminishes, shrinking until your perspective on the room dramatically changes. From an average height, you diminish to just 3.9 feet, the world towering above you.
A churning nausea overwhelms you as memories begin to slip away, replaced by an unfamiliar familiarity. "Can't have mortal memories plague this imp; he is better off with knowledge of weaponry." The voice persists as intricate details of ballistics, firearm maintenance, and assassination techniques flood your consciousness, drowning out whispers of a life you lived—who is fading away—is no longer your own.
Your voice catches in your reshaped throat. It's deeper, almost a comically exaggerated version of how you once spoke. Panic grips you. "No—STOP!" you try to scream, but the new voice overpowers the cry, contaminating rationality with an impish tone.
The room whirls chaotically, and in a breath, everything morphs. The mundane sprawls of your home shift, reassembling into a familiar apartment filled with musical-themed wallpaper, decorated with daggers and moments of your wedding with Millie, your ever-adoring spouse.
"And now for this guy's real species, age, gender, birthplace, personality, preferences, and a few other details.” The last of your humanity is washed away with these silent declarations. You blink away the dizziness, eyes settling on a small, torn couch and a low coffee table scattered with bullets and sharp objects.
The overwhelming sensation ebbs, clarity settling into your mind. You gaze around, somehow oblivious to the transformation, finding comfort in a setting you always knew was yours. A joy bubbles within you. "This—the familiarity—this is home. No other place could be," you murmur, contentment washing over your previously rattled form.
Your glance meets another version of you—your identical clone, and Moxxie smiles warmly. "You’ve been fixed and brought back to where you belong. You've been missing for quite a while, brother."
The memories wholly unfamiliar which were once a conflicting battle melt away entirely. Your identity, the notion of ever being anyone but Moxxie, "Thank you, it's good to be back where I belong," you reply, your voice matching his perfectly.
The two of you enter your shared apartment, two twins in a chaotic inferno of impish delight. You never question the reality. Moxxie nods with a grin, “Then let's have some fun, weapon specialist.”
With every detail and memory satisfied and altered, you, Moxxie, find solace and happiness, never glancing back at the life and application that no longer exists.
---
**Application Before Transformation:**
- Name: [Your Human Name]
- Height: 5.9 feet
- Clothes: Casual, modern human attire
- Memory and Personality: Typical human life memories, personal identity.
- Reality: Earth, Human World.
**Application After Transformation:**
- Name: Moxxie (Identical Twin)
- Height: 3.9 feet
- Clothes: Elegant assassin suit
- Memory and Personality: Weapon specialist, husband to Millie, identical to original Moxxie’s.
- Reality: Hell, specifically the world in “Helluva Boss”.
The annotations were written in the display; each transformation inked with a defining stroke that brought an eternal change.
This story was generated by user DylanVsFizzarolli6 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 the POV transformation story of a human reader completely turning into an identical clone of 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, voice change (the reader's voice completely changes into Moxxie's voice), height regression (shrinking from an average 5.7-6 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 (not wanting to lose his/her personality or memories), making the reader completely forget (being completely unaware that) he was a human just seconds ago, even completely forgetting that the transformation that just occurred seconds ago and completely forgetting that he was in the reader's human world a moment ago, and only remembered ever being a male imp and a husband to Millie, always being an imp named Moxxie). For VivziePop's rendition of Hell (as depicted from the Hazbin Hotel series and the Helluva Boss series), it is the supernatural realm of demons. It is not the fiery pits of torment or a wasteland (unlike in most myths or pop culture), but it is inhabited by a population of indigenous hellborn: entities that were born in Hell, and sinners: Humans who have died and have had their souls sent to Hell. The atmosphere is presented as perpetually choleric, disorderly, and noxious, though capable of supporting carbon-based lifeforms. Hell's geography is divided into Seven Rings, as first revealed by the lyrics in the song "You Will Be Ok". Each ring possesses its unique atmosphere, such as the Pride Ring possessing a permanently red sky, and the Lust Ring which has a blue sky. Hellborn demons have the ability to traverse across any of the rings, made easily accessible via an extensive elevator network, whereas sinner demons are confined to the top-most ring, the Pride Ring, by methods and reasons unknown. Hell's society is incredibly chaotic due to the unstable and hostile disposition of its populace. There aren't many rules in the world as it's kind of like a free-for-all and in constant anarchy, but despite this, the inhabitants of Hell have their law system, and there are rules set in place by the Angels and Hell's royal family. The realm also appears to be capable of providing and maintaining rudimentary public services, evidenced by the appearance of firefighters in the episode "Murder Family" of Helluva Boss. Within Hell's civilization, there exists a crude form of hierarchy defined by power, with all of Hell being ruled by a king: the fallen angel Lucifer Morningstar, whose daughter and heir apparent is Princess Charlie, and whose son and heir is the fallen angel reader (who is a prince and also the ruler of Hell alongside his father, Lucifer Morningstar). (The levels of this hierarchy are broken up from top-to-bottom as follows: Lucifer Morningstar - The King of Hell; Charlie Morningstar - The Princess of Hell, heir apparent to Hell's throne; The Seven Deadly Sins; The Ars Goetia - Hellborn Demons with royal status, including Prince Stolas; Overlords - Demons who wield considerable power/influence in the Pride Ring; Sinners - Demons who were once humans on Earth, having sinned were damned to Hell; Hellborn demons - Succubi, Incubi, and other species of demons native to Hell; Imps and Hellhounds - The bottom of Hell's society) The Pride Ring suffers from mass overpopulation of sinner demons which Exorcists from Heaven attempt to solve through the exterminations, which is a mass genocide of its inhabitants. These are conducted primarily to reduce Hell's sinner population, leaving Hellborn denizens unharmed as per an agreement Lucifer made with Heaven's leadership. Charlie aims to stop this by giving sinners a chance to rehabilitate and redeem themselves by checking into her hotel and later ascending to Heaven. For the appearance of Moxxie's and Millie's apartment, the walls of the entire apartment have a musical note-themed wallpaper. The entryway door is brown with a peephole, a small carpet, and two daggers stabbed into the corner of the doorframe. Beside the door is Moxxie and Millie's wedding photo above a small drawer table with eye flowers in a green vase and two candles. The living room has a couch with rips and several daggers in it, a low coffee table on a carpet, and a small flat screen television. The living room wall has three playbills, three daggers, and a pipe running up to the roof. Moxxie and Millie's bedroom walls have several musical-related items. The bed has a large bedhead with jewels and a heart-like design on the front, and several daggers stabbed in it. On Moxxie's side of the bed is a bedside table with an alarm clock. On Millie's side of the bed is what appears to be a crooked lamp, and a dagger stabbed into a bedside table. For Moxxie's appearance (after the reader turned into his clone), he is a 26 year old 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 named Crimson (who is a mafia boss) being abusive to him or his friends/family members, Loona calling him fat, being the butt of the joke, and Millie stealing his spotlight. The story is that Moxxie got upset and mutters over seeing a fan-made transformation 3-part comic (titled "A lesson in manners - TF TG", coming in part 1, part 2, and part 3) from online, which had him transformed into a 52 year old (5.6 foot tall) human woman in both body and mind by the same identical woman with an application paper (which this comic was made by a random DeviantArt user with a username "tf-plaza") since he hates seeing himself being forcibly transformed, so as payback, Moxxie (while still in Hell in the world of Helluva Boss) has an idea that he wants to do and he then rewrites the the human reader's application (on a work paper which he had found from I.M.P's office area somewhere, scribbling out or blanking out every human reader's detail and replacing them with every Moxxie's detail, all with a pen) from the human reader (who is still in the real world until the transformation occurs) and completely changes the application to fully match Moxxie's, causing the reader (who is fully unaware of Moxxie doing all of this) to feel really twitchy and tingly as the reader starts to completely transform (with each detail from the application describing the reader not having any human clothes or human anatomy and instead having impish features), with each detail being said while the transformation is happening (the reader is completely unaware that Moxxie is doing it and doesn't know what's happening). After all that, and when the human reader is now completely Moxxie in form, he then feels his human personality and memories completely fading away, making the reader dizzy, as Moxxie's personality and memories completely replaces the reader's old ones (the application that Moxxie is writing also describes that), and the reader (now fully Moxxie) was confused on what was he thinking, and he was happy about being an imp named Moxxie. Finalizing everything, Moxxie then writes down the reader's new (or rather true) birthplace in Hell, and being the identical twin brother of Moxxie, causing the reader's reality to completely and fully warp/morph into Moxxie's and Millie's apartment (where Moxxie and Millie currently live) located in Imp City, (in the Pride Ring of Hell) as depicted in Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, and the reader, who is now fully unaware of his previous human life or home, is happy about not being in the reader's old human home (which he is now fully unaware and unfamiliar of ever living in) and he is now truly familiar with his home in Hell with his brother Moxxie (the original one), even commenting on how familiar this home feels (he feels truly home here). After all that, Moxxie explains to the reader that the reader (who is the second Moxxie) has been fixed and brought back to where he belongs (with the original Moxxie in Hell), and explains to the reader that he has been missing for a while; the reader (the second Moxxie) is happy to hear that, and he is grateful for Moxxie and thanks Moxxie for saving the reader (the second Moxxie), with Moxxie (who says that he should be thanking the reader for having his brother (the reader) home with him for the first time since a while), before both the reader and Moxxie comes into Moxxie's home in relief and spend time together being affectionate brothers who care deeply for each other. The transformation is permanent (meaning that it is forever) and is completely irreversible. There should be quotes from the characters in this story (including quotes from the reader and Moxxie, as well as quotes from each application details that Moxxie writes) so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking. The application details written by Moxxie (not seen by the reader, but silently heard by the reader) would say various contradictory details of the reader's self, body and life; for example but not limited to these quotes, one detail, when the reader's clothes change, would say that "These clothes don't suit a proper assassin. He must have an elegant suit.", and when the reader's hair changes and when he's growing tall horns, that another detail says that "Where are the horns? Can't be an imp without them.", and when the reader is growing a devil-like imp tail, would say that "Why doesn't he have a tail? He is an imp after all, so he should have a tail.", then while the reader is shrinking to just 3.9 feet tall, this other details says that "Imps aren't this tall. Must make him smaller since he is a true imp.", while during the reader's mind/mental change, would say that "Can't have mortal memories plague this imp, he is better off with knowledge of weaponry.", and finally, when the reader's reality literally transforms into Hell as depicted from Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, the last detail says that "And now for this guy's real species, age, gender, birthplace, personality, preferences, and few other details.". There should also be the full application shown near the end of the story with all details (appearance, personality, preferences, etc), from before the reader's transformation into Moxxie's lookalike twin brother, and after the reader's transformation into Moxxie's lookalike twin brother. 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: As you sit down at your desk, the warm sunlight filters through the window, caressing the pages of the transformative fan-made comic open before you. The artist had painstakingly crafted each scene, depicting Moxxie being forcibly transformed into a 52-year-old human woman. Strangely fascinating but unsettling, you wondered what it must feel like for Moxxie, an imp weapon specialist, to find himself as a middle-aged human woman. Absorbed in the artwork, you don't notice the faint shimmer in the air, a ripple passing through to the world unseen. Unbeknownst to you, Moxxie is upset. Upset enough to want revenge. He had found your application—many detailed notes describing yourself, your life, preferences, and identity—and he had rewritten it completely, molding it into a mirror of his own. In some place you could not fathom, Moxxie's deft hands scribbled with intent, reshaping your reality from afar. The ink on your metaphorical application began to shift and morph, bringing about your complete transformation. You feel a strange tingling, starting from your toes and slowly spreading throughout your body. "What the...?" you mutter, scratching at an itch that refuses to be soothed. As you glance down, your fingertips become warping shadows, shrinking, losing a joint, thumbs morphing into new, unfamiliar shapes. A wave of conflicting thoughts sweeps over you, like a whisper in your mind, barely discernible yet undeniably ominous. "These clothes don't suit a proper assassin. He must have an elegant suit," you hear a voice echo, but it’s not anyone you can see. Your attire shifts, morphing from human garb to a navy-black coat with red buttons. More changes ripple through you. Your skin reddens, a steady, dark crimson, white freckles dotting your cheeks. "Where are the horns? Can't be an imp without them," the words echo in your mind, and you reach tentatively upward. Slowly, stubby nubs protrude from your head, elongating into curvy black-and-white-striped horns, each second more disorienting than the last. "Why doesn't he have a tail? He is an imp after all, so he should have a tail." You feel a twinge in your spine and something unfurling behind you. A long, red, devil-like tail sprouts, twisting playfully and culminating in a quadrilateral barb. "Imps aren't this tall. Must make him smaller since he is a true imp." You stagger as your height diminishes, shrinking until your perspective on the room dramatically changes. From an average height, you diminish to just 3.9 feet, the world towering above you. A churning nausea overwhelms you as memories begin to slip away, replaced by an unfamiliar familiarity. "Can't have mortal memories plague this imp; he is better off with knowledge of weaponry." The voice persists as intricate details of ballistics, firearm maintenance, and assassination techniques flood your consciousness, drowning out whispers of a life you lived—who is fading away—is no longer your own. Your voice catches in your reshaped throat. It's deeper, almost a comically exaggerated version of how you once spoke. Panic grips you. "No—STOP!" you try to scream, but the new voice overpowers the cry, contaminating rationality with an impish tone. The room whirls chaotically, and in a breath, everything morphs. The mundane sprawls of your home shift, reassembling into a familiar apartment filled with musical-themed wallpaper, decorated with daggers and moments of your wedding with Millie, your ever-adoring spouse. "And now for this guy's real species, age, gender, birthplace, personality, preferences, and a few other details.” The last of your humanity is washed away with these silent declarations. You blink away the dizziness, eyes settling on a small, torn couch and a low coffee table scattered with bullets and sharp objects. The overwhelming sensation ebbs, clarity settling into your mind. You gaze around, somehow oblivious to the transformation, finding comfort in a setting you always knew was yours. A joy bubbles within you. "This—the familiarity—this is home. No other place could be," you murmur, contentment washing over your previously rattled form. Your glance meets another version of you—your identical clone, and Moxxie smiles warmly. "You’ve been fixed and brought back to where you belong. You've been missing for quite a while, brother." The memories wholly unfamiliar which were once a conflicting battle melt away entirely. Your identity, the notion of ever being anyone but Moxxie, "Thank you, it's good to be back where I belong," you reply, your voice matching his perfectly. The two of you enter your shared apartment, two twins in a chaotic inferno of impish delight. You never question the reality. Moxxie nods with a grin, “Then let's have some fun, weapon specialist.” With every detail and memory satisfied and altered, you, Moxxie, find solace and happiness, never glancing back at the life and application that no longer exists. --- **Application Before Transformation:** - Name: [Your Human Name] - Height: 5.9 feet - Clothes: Casual, modern human attire - Memory and Personality: Typical human life memories, personal identity. - Reality: Earth, Human World. **Application After Transformation:** - Name: Moxxie (Identical Twin) - Height: 3.9 feet - Clothes: Elegant assassin suit - Memory and Personality: Weapon specialist, husband to Millie, identical to original Moxxie’s. - Reality: Hell, specifically the world in “Helluva Boss”. The annotations were written in the display; each transformation inked with a defining stroke that brought an eternal change.
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