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Question: Write a POV transformation story of the average male human reader turning into a male fairy (from medieval fantasy) complete with a fairy tunic, long and pointy elf-like ears, long insect-like fairy wings on his back, thin and lean yet athletic body, handsome and ethereal-looking face, no facial hair on the lower half of his face (he keeps his eyelashes and eyebrows however), pale skin, and long hair, complete with age change, shrinking (until the reader is literally tiny like all fairies, about the size of an insect like all fairies, making the entire world around gigantic compared to him now), supernatural powers gain (including but not limited to being immortal, forever youthful, and having an ability to literally fly, thanks to his newfound fairy wings), language shift (changing from English to a fairy's language (which is a type of elven language), yet the reader now completely understood this new language whilst no longer remembering English), reality change (the reader's real world warping and becoming the fantasy medieval world filled with mythical creatures such as fairies, elves, goblins (the fairies' arch nemesis), dragons, and many more), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personality and memories replaced with a fairy's personality and memories, despite his best efforts on fighting off the new memories and personality, making him completely forget about being a mortal human and only remember being a fairy). The story is that the reader was visiting a museum containing very old books and other historical artifacts, where the reader finds a book that is all about medieval fantasy creatures, he then opens the book, causing the blinding light to engulf him and thus caused the whole transformation to occur. During the mental changes, the reader is truly terrified/horrified about completely losing/forgetting his own memories, personality, and language as a human (with English instantly changing to a fairy's language during mid-sentence, much to the reader's horror, and he tries to speak English, but to no avail and all he said are fairy's words), so he tries to fight against the new memories and personality (even screaming for help from his family/friends, crying out in tears, as well as attempting to shake his head as an attempt to get rid of the emerging fairy's memories/personality), but his mental fight is in vain, making him completely forget his mortal and mundane human life and he only remembers being a medieval-era fairy (complete with a new name fitting for a fairy, rather than an old human name he once remembered having). To aid in the now-fairy reader's transforming mind, a female fairy from a nearby fairy village (who caused the book to transport the reader into a medieval world and transformed into a fairy himself) comes up to the reader and comforts him with a gentle hug, quietly singing a fairy's lullaby to the reader, and telling him to remember who he really is (a fairy and a husband to the female fairy who's comforting him), making the reader realize that the fairy woman comforting him is his caring, understanding, and loving wife (whom the fairy reader truly loves, cares, and understands, having always known her), and the reader is genuinely happy to know that his previous and mundane human life was only a dream and his life as a joyous fairy with child-like happiness, child-like joy, and child-like wonder (like all fairies) is his only true life, having enjoyed being with his fairy wife, whom he truly loves (and vice versa), he has married centuries ago. 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).
You're in a museum, your eyes scanning the ancient artifacts and dusty books. One tome catches your attention, thick and large and bound in softly luminescent, almost shimmering, leather. As your fingertips brush against the cool cover, you feel drawn to it, a mouse to the piper's tune. Opening the book, blinding incandescence engulfs you, swarming around you as if a speeding whirlwind. Your body feels weightless, like a leaf caught in a breeze. An alien euphoria tingles in your veins as your frame starts warping and changing dramatically. Suddenly, your clothes feel looser. You glance down to see them metamorphose into a radiant, iridescent tunic, shimmering like sunlight on dew. Panic, ensnared within your chest, makes your heart pound as you touch the ears, now arching and tapering to points reminiscent of mythical creatures. The world looks different. You feel different. Your back strains, a fluttering sensation just below your shoulder blades, culminating into a crescendo of pain that quickly ebbs away, leaving in its wake a pair of large, iridescent insect-like wings. They flutter gently, maintaining some distant rhythm, unchecked by your conscious thoughts. You're shrinking, and rapidly so, the world expanding at an alarming rate as you stand helpless to this onslaught. Is this... a dream? A nightmare? Your skin is pale now, as crystal-clear as moonlight itself. Your visage morphs into something ethereal, hair lengthening and cascading downwards. Your facial hair disappears. Your wide eyes, a mirror to your panic-stricken soul, flick and flutter to your turning surroundings. The world blurs around you, the once familiar museum vanishing in a flash of blinding light. Suddenly, you're standing in a forest, an orchestra of cicadas playing in the twilight. The shift, jarring and swift, sends you reeling. The changes envelope your mind next. New memories flutter, ethereal butterflies in the garden of your existence. Terrifying. Horrifying. You struggle, fighting against this invasion, against the slow erasure of your humanity. You try to scream, your mouth opening, but no sound comes out, as though your larynx has forgotten English. An alien language bubbles out instead, musical and lyrical, like the murmuring brooks and rustling leaves. You frantically clutch your head, your spoken words sounding like melodious whispers of an elven song. You're forgetting... everything. It's then she appears, a radiant fairy with her wings folding like a mosaic of dew-dappled flowers. She approaches, her face lined with worry. She whispers, her words sung in the same sweet language you've been uttering. It comforts you. Menacing darkness recedes to the corners of your existence, replaced by the tranquil brightness of acceptance. She pulls you into an embrace, her melodious hums seeping into your ear, quieting the fight within you. "Remember who you are," she urges. Strangely, it settles you rather than aggravating your panic. Your world settles, a still pond after a commotion. You remember her, your wife, always having been, always will. And suddenly, everything feels right, feels true. Your transformation was not the nightmare you thought it was but rather a dream—a dream of flying, of love, of living in bliss and serenity that was your reality now.
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