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Twice the Grin: A Twisted Tale of Alastor's Doppelgänger

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You stare at your reflection on the screen, chuckling to yourself at the absurdity of the fan art and stories proliferating the community pages you frequent. Alastor, the Radio Demon, twisted into grotesque parodies and strange transformations. As amusing as it could be, today, the weariness from all these distortions of your beloved character gnaws at you more than usual.

A sudden chill sweeps through your room; something you attribute to just the aging structure of your home. Yet, as you continue scrolling, a flashy message brightens your screen: “For those who dare twist tales of Alastor, prepare to face the consequences.” Rolling your eyes, you think it’s just another prank post.

Then everything goes dark.

The silence of your room throbs in your ears until a distant, yet unmistakable voice sneaks up behind you. "My, my, the audacity of rewriting my very essence into myriad forms." The voice is alluring yet menacing, dripping with sinister charm.

You twist in your chair, but before you can react, the room warps. Reality bends around you as if mocking your very existence. Shadows coil around your form, and fear clutches at your heart. In the blink of an eye, you find yourself in the world of Hazbin Hotel, face-to-grin with your nightmare—Alastor.

"You!" You squeak, panic rising. "Why are you-"

He interrupts with a hearty, sinister laugh. "Ah, what delightful dread. But enough talk, dear mortal. If you find alterations of one’s true self so enthralling, let’s see how you fare yourself!"

Alastor waves his cane, the sentient microphone cackling. A darkness envelopes you, not the comforting embrace of unconsciousness, but a suffocating, transforming veil. Your body begins to stretch and shift, and with each tormenting second, pieces of your humanity slip away.

You feel yourself pulled taller, towering to a height that a moment ago seemed almost impossible. Seconds pass, and your skin begins to pale, taking on a beige hue. Fingers elongate, claws taking shape at the tips, while your limbs thin out disturbingly.

"Stop it! Please! This can't be happening!" You cry, but the words fade into a static, distorted scream as your throat constructs itself anew, an Adam’s apple thrusting into place. If you were a female, the terrible inversion happens within: everything flipping, pushing, twisting until you no longer feel like… yourself.

"Horrified, are we?" Alastor's jovial tone barely penetrates through the suffering.

Your clothes morph, encasing your new form in the dapper, vintage style Alastor so notoriously dons. The moment you confront the mirror next, sharp teeth, a grin from hell itself, greets you. The threads of terror turn into speech: "Why can't I stop smiling?" Your voice, now identically his, is involuntarily cheery and calm.

"Oh, it's simply your nature now," Alastor purrs. "There is no room for frowns or fear; just a ceaseless smile."

Your mind begins to betray you next. Memories of your human life, your family, your mundane struggles—dissolve like sugar into bitter coffee. Recollections emergent—your mother's cooking, mesmerizing jambalaya, the hidden thrill of clandestine broadcasts, the dark delight in slaying wayward souls. Twins born under the same shadow, dying and awakening in hell.

"No! This isn’t me! I—"

"It's too late, dear. You've always been me,” he reassures with a dark chuckle. "Just another Alastor waking up from a pleasant dream of normality. Now, come. We have a hotel to mismanage!"

You can feel Alastor weaving into your soul as your human essence blackout. The fitting madness wraps tightly around your mind. When you open your eyes, it's not your reflection but Alastor’s familiar face staring back confidently.

"Welcome home, brother,” the original Radio Demon greets.

You nod, knowing where your place is now. It’s not a resigned gesture but an acknowledgment. Together, you step into Hazbin Hotel, sure of your intentions, eager to see Charlie’s dream falter, and navigating the hellish inhabitants with sinister glee.

As days pass, you, the new Alastor, revel in your antics. Vaggie scowls at the duplicity; two Alastors naturally unnerving. Angel Dust, ever the provocative jester, finds twice the entertainment. Husk grumbles, Nifty dotes with annoying endearment, and Charlie? Charlie remains resilient, a light in the contiguous darkness you bring.

"Two Radio Demons," she muses. "I suppose twice the help? If you keep your promises."

"Oh, Charlie dear," you respond, the synchronized voices of yourself and your twin filling the room. "We’re ever so dedicated to assisting you... for now."

In the caverns of hell, among its flotsam and jetsam, you find a deviant but curious joy in your red-coated enigma. For you have become Alastor, and in your wake, Hell won’t soon forget the Radio Demons.

And the static silence fills the void.

Adjusting your monocle, you glance at your twin. Both of you share that eternally fixed smile. Alastors never lose.

And with a flourishing laugh that fills the halls, you both resume your mischievous maneuvers, for Hell has a new patina of madness—painted by twins.

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 a 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: You stare at your reflection on the screen, chuckling to yourself at the absurdity of the fan art and stories proliferating the community pages you frequent. Alastor, the Radio Demon, twisted into grotesque parodies and strange transformations. As amusing as it could be, today, the weariness from all these distortions of your beloved character gnaws at you more than usual. A sudden chill sweeps through your room; something you attribute to just the aging structure of your home. Yet, as you continue scrolling, a flashy message brightens your screen: “For those who dare twist tales of Alastor, prepare to face the consequences.” Rolling your eyes, you think it’s just another prank post. Then everything goes dark. The silence of your room throbs in your ears until a distant, yet unmistakable voice sneaks up behind you. "My, my, the audacity of rewriting my very essence into myriad forms." The voice is alluring yet menacing, dripping with sinister charm. You twist in your chair, but before you can react, the room warps. Reality bends around you as if mocking your very existence. Shadows coil around your form, and fear clutches at your heart. In the blink of an eye, you find yourself in the world of Hazbin Hotel, face-to-grin with your nightmare—Alastor. "You!" You squeak, panic rising. "Why are you-" He interrupts with a hearty, sinister laugh. "Ah, what delightful dread. But enough talk, dear mortal. If you find alterations of one’s true self so enthralling, let’s see how you fare yourself!" Alastor waves his cane, the sentient microphone cackling. A darkness envelopes you, not the comforting embrace of unconsciousness, but a suffocating, transforming veil. Your body begins to stretch and shift, and with each tormenting second, pieces of your humanity slip away. You feel yourself pulled taller, towering to a height that a moment ago seemed almost impossible. Seconds pass, and your skin begins to pale, taking on a beige hue. Fingers elongate, claws taking shape at the tips, while your limbs thin out disturbingly. "Stop it! Please! This can't be happening!" You cry, but the words fade into a static, distorted scream as your throat constructs itself anew, an Adam’s apple thrusting into place. If you were a female, the terrible inversion happens within: everything flipping, pushing, twisting until you no longer feel like… yourself. "Horrified, are we?" Alastor's jovial tone barely penetrates through the suffering. Your clothes morph, encasing your new form in the dapper, vintage style Alastor so notoriously dons. The moment you confront the mirror next, sharp teeth, a grin from hell itself, greets you. The threads of terror turn into speech: "Why can't I stop smiling?" Your voice, now identically his, is involuntarily cheery and calm. "Oh, it's simply your nature now," Alastor purrs. "There is no room for frowns or fear; just a ceaseless smile." Your mind begins to betray you next. Memories of your human life, your family, your mundane struggles—dissolve like sugar into bitter coffee. Recollections emergent—your mother's cooking, mesmerizing jambalaya, the hidden thrill of clandestine broadcasts, the dark delight in slaying wayward souls. Twins born under the same shadow, dying and awakening in hell. "No! This isn’t me! I—" "It's too late, dear. You've always been me,” he reassures with a dark chuckle. "Just another Alastor waking up from a pleasant dream of normality. Now, come. We have a hotel to mismanage!" You can feel Alastor weaving into your soul as your human essence blackout. The fitting madness wraps tightly around your mind. When you open your eyes, it's not your reflection but Alastor’s familiar face staring back confidently. "Welcome home, brother,” the original Radio Demon greets. You nod, knowing where your place is now. It’s not a resigned gesture but an acknowledgment. Together, you step into Hazbin Hotel, sure of your intentions, eager to see Charlie’s dream falter, and navigating the hellish inhabitants with sinister glee. As days pass, you, the new Alastor, revel in your antics. Vaggie scowls at the duplicity; two Alastors naturally unnerving. Angel Dust, ever the provocative jester, finds twice the entertainment. Husk grumbles, Nifty dotes with annoying endearment, and Charlie? Charlie remains resilient, a light in the contiguous darkness you bring. "Two Radio Demons," she muses. "I suppose twice the help? If you keep your promises." "Oh, Charlie dear," you respond, the synchronized voices of yourself and your twin filling the room. "We’re ever so dedicated to assisting you... for now." In the caverns of hell, among its flotsam and jetsam, you find a deviant but curious joy in your red-coated enigma. For you have become Alastor, and in your wake, Hell won’t soon forget the Radio Demons. And the static silence fills the void. Adjusting your monocle, you glance at your twin. Both of you share that eternally fixed smile. Alastors never lose. And with a flourishing laugh that fills the halls, you both resume your mischievous maneuvers, for Hell has a new patina of madness—painted by twins.

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