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Question: Write a POV transformation story of the reader turning into identical clone of Alastor (from an adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female), 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, 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). 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 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. The story is that Alastor is getting bored and wanted something new and more entertaining in Hell, and Alastor is getting tired of seeing artwork and stories (online) of himself getting turned into other characters in both body and mind (sometimes from different series), which he views as distasteful. So to teach the reader a lesson, Alastor (by some supernatural means) briefly left the series' Hell and into real life 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 tried to fight those new memories and personality, not wanting to be completely transformed in either body or mind, but is fighting a losing battle and his/her mind been completely replaced with Alastor's mind). 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)
It was an ordinary evening, or so it seemed. The soft gloaming of your room enveloped you, encasing you in a sense of comfort and familiarity. Yet, as you settled into your favorite chair, a strange anomaly crackled through the air. The screen of your computer flickered before being engulfed in static, then abruptly snapped into clarity, displaying a figure dressed in red. Your heart pounded in your chest as the very essence of the character you admired – Alastor, the Radio Demon from Hazbin Hotel – stepped through the screen, an unnerving grin plastered on his face. "Ah, how delightful to meet in person," his voice resonated with a crackling radio frequency, "I've observed your little hobby of transforming me into other creatures and characters. Quite distasteful, if I might add. Now, let's turn the tables, shall we?" Before you could react, a vortex engulfed you. Darkness wrapped you in its cold embrace, snatching you from your world and hurling you into another. You tumbled through space and time, your senses overwhelmed until you landed with a jarring thud on cold, unfamiliar ground. Opening your eyes, you found yourself in the chaotic splendor of Hell, specifically the world of Hazbin Hotel. Alastor stood before you, his grin wider than ever. Without any need for incantations or theatrics, he waved his hand, and a surge of black magic coursed through your body. A fiery pain consumed you, as your very essence began to twist and reshape. Your heart raced as your skin paled to a peculiar beige, and your height shot up unnaturally fast. Bones cracked and restructured, muscles contorted. You looked down, seeing your hands morphing into clawed fingers with red at the tips. Struggling against the transformation, you tried to recall your own memories, but tendrils of Alastor's personality and history began to infiltrate your consciousness. "Don't fight it, dear," Alastor's voice hummed tantalizingly. "You'll find it much more enjoyable if you embrace your new self." Your torso elongated, shoulders broadening subtly, while your legs and arms grew thin and lithe. A sharp, persistent ache on your head revealed the sprouting of small antlers. Your hands moved involuntarily, almost as if they were no longer your own, feeling the smooth, cropped locks of pinkish-red hair adorned with black tips. The sensation of these changes was alarming, but it was the gradual erosion of your mind that was most terrifying. "Stop... this...!" Your voice croaked out, a final desperate plea, though already tinged with a transatlantic flavor. With each passing moment, your surroundings became familiar not as a previously viewed media, but as places you had lived, people you had known. Dark-red sclerae faded over your eyes, pupils slitting and irising into a vivid red. Alastor's entire past life melded into your thoughts, eclipsing every fragment of who you once were. "Welcome, my twin," Alastor crooned. "Doesn't this suit feel just grand on you?" A red pinstripe coat adorned you, perfectly hung with details you didn't need to look at, but knew instinctively: dark-red lapels, the bright red dress-shirt beneath, black gloves, dress pants with matching cuffs, and pointed-toe black boots tracing red deer hoofprints as you nervously shifted on your feet. Mentally, you grappled with the tsunami of foreign memories: growing up in the early 1900s, mastering a radio announcer persona, the hunger and humor of your cunning intellect endlessly interwoven with deal-making prowess... but it was all becoming you. There was no distinction anymore. Your voice now came naturally, the crackling vintage radio tone infused with every word, "I do believe I quite enjoy this, dear Alastor." The demonic transformation was complete. Shadows obeyed you, red symbols floated around your head, and a deep indulgence for mischief and power settled comfortably into your new reality. You – once a human reader – were utterly and irrevocably Alastor, the Radio Demon’s identical twin. "So," your voice lilted, all traces of struggle vanished, "what's our next entrancing spectacle?" Alastor's laughter, as familiar as it was haunting, echoed through the hellish conurbation, “Ah, the marvels we'll create together in this inferno. Let the show begin!”
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