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Question: Write a POV transformation story of a reader and his/her friend or sibling turning into identical clones of Alastor (from the Hazbin Hotel series), complete with gender change (if the reader and/or friend/sibling are female), clothes change, age change, height change, and mind/mental change (with the reader's and friend's/sibling's personalities and memories being completely replaced with Alastor's personality and memories, despite their best efforts of fighting the new personality and memories, making them both completely forget about their past selves and only remember being Alastor). For Alastor's appearance (after the reader and his/her friend/sibling turned into his clones), 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. 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 and the friend/sibling a lesson, Alastor (by some supernatural means) briefly left the series' Hell and into real life to kidnap both the reader and his/her friend or sibling before sending them both to the world of Hazbin Hotel before using supernatural black magic at the reader and his/her sibling/friend which turned them into his clones, thus turning the reader and the friend/sibling into Alastor's identical twin brothers (the reader and the sibling/friend tried to fight those new memories and personality, not wanting to be completely transformed in either body or mind, but are fighting a losing battle and their minds 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.
From your eyes, you find yourself and your company in a rich red room, flickering neon lights piercing through the thick, metallic-tasting fog. A pulsating rhythm of an old tune is playing from nowhere in particular but everywhere at once. The sight before you is a towering figure that seems to revel in the chaos of his surroundings—Alastor. "I daresay! You two are just the entertainment I've been craving," Alastor says, his voice crooning like an old radio broadcast. The tension in the air waves around his cane, bristling with something ominous and tantalizing at once. He starts to move as if he's conducting some unseen orchestra, the room growing darker, the air denser. "It's distasteful, I dare say!" His lips part into a grin. "Fan creations turning me into all sorts of characters. But, ah, maybe it's time for them to experience what it's like, no?" Drawing closer, he extends his cane to both you and your company. "You're going to make such lovely... additions to my broadcast," he hums, and things start to morph around you. Your body feels drawn apart and strung back together like a marionette on a wire. Your skin, once your natural hue, loses its warmth, lining itself beige. Your clothes feel, all at once, too big, too tight, blooming into a red pinstripe suit that feels like it's been tailored to your now-sculpted and elongating frame. Hair tightens into a cropped bob cut, your hands and feet hardening into harsh claws and hoofs. Antlers sprout from your head, eerily similar to Alastor’s. You can feel the same happening to your friend or sibling beside you. The changes don't end physically. Memories, your own and personal, start to fragment into pieces before disintegrating into indistinguishable ash. They are consumed in a bright, searing fire which soon becomes reddened with a spruce of new memories: jazz music, a blood-soaked deer, your authoritative presence in Hell. A slew of vivid, horrific, and enthralling recollections of being the infamous Radio Demon floods in against your will. And these new memories are not alone—they bring with them a brand new persona: dapper, cunning, with a side of unforgiving cruelty. "No! I don't want to forget!" You hear yourself plead desperately, your voice not truly holding your essence anymore. "Just give in," Alastor's voice buzzes by your ear. "It's much easier when you do." But you can't. You shouldn't. Yet the more you try to cling onto the fading vestige of your old self, the more the new persona seems to dig its claws in. A fight is put up, desperate and passionate. But it's a losing one. Your thoughts are drowning in his voice, his memories, his personality. You can feel your resistance crumbling, and then, without a final word, it's over. Looking through new eyes, the world is a stage, and the demons are your audience. "There we are," Alastor says, sounding entirely too pleased. "Aren’t we rather delightful? What broadcast wouldn’t be improved by twofold charm and charisma? Now let’s offer this world a show they won’t ever forget." It's him you see in your reflection. It's him everyone else will see. You're not you anymore. You're Alastor. You don't remember anything else, and you don’t think you want to. You're quite entertained by this refreshing change, actually. And you think, maybe it is time for the world to tune into your broadcast.
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