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Question: Write a POV transformation of a male human reader (a boy of between 7 and 18 years old) turning into Alastor the Radio Demon (from the animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with clothes change, age progression (turning from a kid to an adult and being immortal), height progression (growing taller until he's about 7 feet tall), and mind/mental change (with the reader's mind being permanently and completely replaced with Alastor's personality and memories, despite his best efforts on fighting them and his attempts of calling his parents for help, making the reader completely forget about his past self and only remember being Alastor). 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.
You are in the middle of playing your favorite video game when a sudden, powerful pang hits you, forcing you to look at your own hands. Looking down, you find your skin gradually shifting from the usual gentle hue to a mature, leather-like beige. A quick glance at the mirror nearby reveals your short, childlike hair stretching, darkening, and sprouting from your head in a bob-cut with an angular edge, separate black-tipped tufts standing proudly from the rest. Next, you feel a peculiar surge go through your skull, something sharp and hard poking through the strands of your hair: black antlers. As you begin to process all these changes, panic grips you. Shaky on your hooves - hooves? - you rush toward the corner of the room, swiftly reaching for the phone to dial your parents' number. As you punch the digits in, you find, to your horror, thin pointed black nails replacing your younger rounded fingertips. Even as you etch out the childhood memory of a parent’s number, you feel the grip on it slipping. You cry out in vain, even as your voice begins to change, becoming increasingly melodious and smooth, gaining an accent that's seasoned and laced with old-timey charm. The numbers don’t make sense anymore, replaced by cryptic radio dials your mind can barely comprehend. A dreadful feeling of losing your identity confuses every nerve in your body. Your pleas for help now sound like radio broadcasts. You feel older, wiser, not the helpless boy anymore, but something else. Almost 7 feet tall by now, you look at your reflection again as your clothing appears to update, largely crimson and black. The mature silhouette of a middle-aged man stares back at you, dapper in a ragged red pinstripe coat, bright red dress shirt, and black dress pants. A monocle covering your right eye, a black-bow tie around your neck and black boots below complement the outfit. A monstrous grin stretches across your face. As you open your mouth to speak, laughter fills the room, and you notice that remaining canine teeth are replaced with an array of sharp yellow fangs. You pat the top of your hand gingerly with the red-tipped black glove, trying to accept this macabre reality. In another moment of terrifying transformation, a living silver microphone materializes in the palm of your hand, quintessentially vintage, attached to the end of a slender cane. You watch as the foreign object moves and reacts like a sentient being. Slowly, you understand there's no more gaming tonight, or perhaps ever. Your memory slowly blanks out as your identity is rewritten, mind wiped thing. You don’t remember the time when your name was anything else but Alastor, your persona nothing different from the radio demon’s. The playful and sophisticated mannerisms feel natural now, and the violent side seems essential to maintain strict rules and to express your particular values and expectations. You have fully transitioned into Alastor, the personification of charisma, charm, violence, and a love for broadcasting. The boy you once were is a distant echo, drowned out by the siren song of 'the Radio Demon', the voice of hell.
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