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Question: Write a POV transformation of a male human reader (a boy of 8 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 an 8-year-old, life is simple. Your biggest worries are what's for lunch, and who's going to be it in the next round of tag. But as I looked at my distorted reflection in the shiny surface of the toaster, I, an average boy living in a suburban neighborhood, was about to have a lot more to think about. The transformation began subtly. My hair, which was naturally a soft brunette, began to darken, thickening until it formed a black bob-cut with sinister, spiky edges. In the mirror, I saw two thin antlers, like those of a deer, protruding from my scalp, their tips fading into the same inky black as my hair. As much as I rubbed my eyes and blinked, the sight wouldn't go away. "Dad! Mom! Something's happening!" I cried, but my voice was muffled by a growing static, like that of an old radio. My clothes seemed to shift and alter, warping until they resembled a sharp, red pinstriped suit, complete with a dark-red lapel piped with white. A black cross appeared on my chest, an immediate contrast to the bright red shirt beneath the suit, matching perfectly with the long, black dress pants ending with red cuffs. There was a dark-red monocle over my right eye, the world tinting as I looked through it. A black bowtie and black gloves with red fingertips completed the ensemble. My feet, now encased in black pointed boots, clicked against the hardwood floor with each step. The growth spurt was vertigo-inducing. One moment, I was peering over the kitchen counter, and the next, I towered over it. The world seemed to shrink, making me feel like a giant in a dollhouse. But the transformation wasn't over. Losing grip on my sanity, I felt a strange power coursing through me. “This can't be real!” I thought, my mind spinning as I tried to comprehend the situation. My body was no longer my own, replaced by a figure from an adult animated TV series - Alastor from Hazbin Hotel. "This can't be happening to me, I'm just a kid... Just a kid." I whispered, even as my voice continued to deepen and change, my words punctuated by an eerie echo. The world around me began warping, the familiar layout of my home squishing and stretching until it molded into the chaotic world of Hazbin Hotel. The calm painting of a sunset over the sea was replaced by the harsh, vivid, and infernal visage of the underworld. From somewhere within, I felt the stirrings of a new personality rattling the cage of my childish mind. The sheer delight in mayhem, a dash of condescending humor, and the layered sentiments of a charming but dangerous character bright as a live radio broadcast yet possessing the unpredictability of a minefield. I tried to resist, wracking my brain trying to remember the family vacations, the scrabble games, the mundane beauty of my own existence, but it was like trying to hold water in my hand. The chilling voice in my thoughts narrated with glee, "Oh, what a charming demon belle Charlie will be in the picture show tonight!" My heartbeat quickened as I was consumed by a tidal wave of strange memories - Experiences, emotions, habits that were not mine. I tried to scream, to fight against the incoming tide, but it was no use. The boy I once was, was no more. Every piece of me that made me ‘me’ - my love for the simple sandwiches my mom made me, the scratches I got from playing with the neighborhood dog, the hushed lullabies my dad would sing - faded, being swallowed into the abyss of someone else’s existence. Instead of my parents, there were faces of demons and otherworldly creatures. Fear made way for familiarity as they all fell into place. And just like that, I was Alastor. The transformation was complete and irreversible - the human boy that existed was no more, forgotten like a bushel of dried leaves whirled away by the autumn wind. A dapper, charming, and dangerous being stood in his place. All on a quiet Sunday where the biggest concern should have been about an upcoming math test. “Oh, the joys of being a kid!” I chuckled, the laugh thrumming in the depths of my being - a haunting parody of a memory that wasn’t even mine anymore. My own life was lost somewhere behind me, and I made my way forward into a life that lay stretched out - ominous and eternal, just like me, Alastor, the Radio Demon.
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