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Question: Write a POV transformation of a male human reader (a boy of 9 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 I look down at my hands, my worn-out comic book slips from my fingers, landing on the grass with a soft thud. A peculiar tingling sensation washes over my body, not unlike the feeling of pins and needles, only stronger, more... pressing. The world around me seems to ripple as reality blurs, the once blue sky shading darker until it's a murky crimson. Fear teases at my heartstrings - what could be happening? My clothes begin to change, my small, tattered sneakers lose their scuffs, extending into polished pointed-toe boots sporting conspicuous red deer hoofprints on the soles. My jeans morph into sleek, black dress pants, while my faded t-shirt levels up into a blood-red dress-shirt donned with a of black cross on the chest. The toy bowtie around my neck tightens, becomes real, iconic black knotted cloth with a bright red center. "Mom! Dad! Help!" I cry, reaching out desperately towards my house in the distance. But reality distorts, its wavering facade now mirroring an ominous cityscape. Hazbin Hotel in all its terrifying glory replaces my familiar world, my safe harbor, my parents, nowhere to be seen. Everything lengthens, the world stretching like an illusion before me. My body grows, age cashing in its debts in mere seconds. Suddenly flooded with memories – decades, centuries worth of a life I've not lived, I gasp as I age rapidly from a 9-year-old boy to a near-eternal demon in his prime. I can see my reflection in a nearby pool of grimy water. I now stand, a full seven feet tall, slim yet intimidating. My toothy grin peeps through beige-colored skin, incisors sharper than my prepubescent mind could imagine. Cheeks stretch into a perpetual smile, mocking my panicked state while my messy mop of brown curls transforms into a slick red bob with black tips. My eyes flicker, their once-blue hue swapping with a vibrant, almost unnerving red. Radio dials flicker over my vision briefly as I struggle against Alastor’s irresistible personality. "No... No! I won't forget! I can't forget!" I mumble to myself, my voice shifting, echoing with a booming omnipresence. Darkness fringes my senses, encroaching as Alastor's mind intertwines with my unyielding attachment to my childhood self. My resistance crumbles under the force of an immortal personality replacing my feebly constructed one. The rush of memories, the thoughts, emotions, an entire life pushes mine to obscurity until there's nothing left. I am Alastor, the Radio Demon of Hazbin Hotel, an entity unburdened by mortality and uninterested in childhood antics. Closing my newly formed eyes, allowing myself to fall into the throes of the transformation, I remember nothing of the boy who was. Turning towards the hotel, I prepare to embrace my new reality, walking forward with a spring in my step, twirling the cane mic in my gloved hand. "Well, isn't this the picture show? Let’s see what this charming demon belle is up to," I announce, my new voice resonating with a transatlantic accent, ringing out over the cacophony of hell. An inexplicable thrill surges through me, a wicked pleasure intertwined with the sense of power. Even as I leave behind my human world, I can't help but look forward to this eternal transformation.
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