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Question: Write a POV transformation of the male human reader (a boy of 7 years old) turning into Alastor (from the adult animated TV series Hazbin Hotel), complete with clothes change, age progression (turning from a kid to between 30s-40s years old and being immortal), height progression (growing taller until he was adult-sized), reality/world change (the reader's real world warping and turning into the world of Hazbin Hotel), and mind/mental change (with the reader's mind being permanently and completely replaced with Alastor's personality and memories, despite all of the reader's best yet failed attempts on fighting off these mental changes and all his attempts to call the reader's parents for help, making the reader completely forget about his past self, having no memories of being a mortal human kid, and only remember being Alastor the Radio Demon). The transformation into Alastor is permanent (meaning it's forever) and completely irreversible. For Alastor's appearance (after the kid reader turned into him), he is a slim, dapper sinner demon with beige-colored skin, and usually has a broad smile full of sharp, yellow teeth. 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). 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. 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. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.
As a seven-year-old boy, you enjoyed the simple pleasures of life - playing with your friends, reading comics, and watching your favorite cartoons. But one day, things began to change. You'd become fascinated with a new show called Hazbin Hotel, particularly with the charming and eccentric character, Alastor. The first sign was an odd feeling, like a tickle behind your eyes. But it wasn't long before that tickle turned into a throb, a relentless throbbing that echoed through your skull. You could barely blink without seeing the color red, a brilliant crimson that reminded you of Alastor's coat. It was oddly soothing, a deep hue that settled against your skin as if it had always belonged there. "Mom!" you called out one day, swimming in clothes that seemed to expand around you, the small cotton shirts of childhood becoming larger, giving way to a fine pinstripe suit. "Something's happening!" Before long, the suit completely covered you, making you look mature beyond your years. And the transformation didn't stop at your clothing. You felt your body stretching, growing, and changing in inexplicable ways. Your height soon matched that of an adult - not just any adult, but that of a man who dwarfed most men. An eerie sense of deja vu overcame you as you eventually towered at about seven feet tall. The world around you started to warp; the peaceful neighborhood you once knew distorted and shifted into a horrific landscape reminiscent of the afterlife in Hazbin Hotel. Every couple of seconds, the world blinked - between normal and hellish, and then, it stayed hellish. "Something... something's..." you began, the words dying in your throat. As your reality morphed, so too did your mind. Thoughts were no longer yours. Memories of laughter, homework, playing under the warm sun, all washed away, replaced by the memories of someone else - Alastor. You wanted to resist it, wanted to hold onto your humanity, your childhood, but the memories eroded faster the more you tried to cling to them. No matter how much you screamed, how much you tried to fight it, the transformation continued. "I'm Alastor," your voice echoed out, full of dread yet strangely serene. "The Radio Demon." And there it was, the undeniable sound of his voice from your lips. You called out one last time, hoping that someone, anyone, would hear you and save you from this terrifying ordeal. But your screams went unheard as Alastor's memories overtook your consciousness, cleaning the slate of your existence. "My dear parents, hear my plea..." you begged, your voice laced with a transatlantic accent. But your words fell upon deaf ears. In your desperation, you reached for the mirror on the wall, but what you saw looking back at you was no longer a young boy. Instead, the face of a dapper demon stared back at you, a wide grin plastered across your face, your eyes now dark red, a sinister glow emanating from them. You glanced down only to find clawed fingers and hoof-toed feet, your existence as a mortal human completely washed away, replaced by a creature of the supernatural. Your every mannerism, every smile, even your voice was the spitting image of Alastor managed to replicate even the old-fashioned radio announcer's voice to perfection. In a final confirmation of your transformation, a thin cane with a sentient vintage microphone attached materialized into your grip. The transformation was complete. Forever and irreversible, you were now Alastor, the Radio Demon. And with a manic laugh that echoed ominously, you reveled in your new form, embracing the chaos and power that was now yours to command. After all, isn't that just what the radio ordered?
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