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Question: Write a POV transformation story of the reader turning into identical clone of Alastor (from the Hazbin Hotel series), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female), clothes change, age change, height change, and mind/mental change (with the reader's personalities and memories being completely replaced with Alastor's personality and memories, despite his/her best efforts of fighting the new personality and memories, making the reader completely forget about his/her past self and only remember being Alastor). For Alastor's appearance (after the reader turned into his clone), 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 hoofed toes and red 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 would be that Alastor was 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 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.
The air crackled with a sinister energy as a tall, dapper, odd-looking man appeared in your room. Recognizing him immediately from the Hazbin Hotel series, your heart leaped -before freezing in place. Alastor, the Radio Demon, was standing before you in the flesh. "Ah, hello there!" he greeted cheerily, his transatlantic accent filling the silence. "One must admit, all these strange depictions online of one’s lovely self being transformed into other... beings have become rather tiresome." "What... what are you doing here?" You managed to stammer out, disbelief written all over your face. "I thought I might shake things up. Teach a lesson about the value of originality." his grin grew wider, his red irises glowing ominously. "And you, my dear, will be part of the lesson." With that, he extended a gloved hand —and you were sucked into a portal, realities blurring around you. When you came to, you found yourself standing next to Alastor amidst the chaotic landscape of Hell. You're clutching at your chest, gasping for breath. But your worries are soon replaced by panic when you look down to find claws where your hand should be, coated in the same beige and red hues of Alastor’s skin. "I don't want this," you cried out, your voice echoing out into the seemingly endless expanse of the underworld. "Oh, no! It seems we're past the point of negotiation." Alastor replied with his traditional cheeriness, even as his face remained stoic. The changes became more apparent, your body stretching and morphing until you looked in a nearby mirror-like surface. And there you are - an exact copy of Alastor, right down to the black-tipped tufts of hair and dark grey limbs. Tears welled up in the corners of your new eyes as the final transformation took place - the most painful one. Your memories flooded with those of Alastor, scenes you never lived playing out in your mind like a film reel. It's unsettling because these aren’t your experiences, aren’t your feelings. Yet, little by little, they become such. You feel your own thoughts receding, your memories being replaced. You clutch at the fragments of your past, but they slip through like wisps of smoke. The last memory of who you once were fades away, replaced entirely by the persona and history of Alastor. In the end, you couldn't even mourn the loss of your identity because you no longer knew who you were. You only knew that you were Alastor, and it was as if you have always been Alastor. Friends gone, family forgotten, the past erased. "Well, well," Alastor remarked, tapping his microphone-topped cane on the ground. His Doppler-form stared back at him, his same rubbery smile on full display. What once was a frightened and unwilling participant of a cruel lesson, had transformed into his mirror image. Remembering your anxiety, Alastor clapped his hands together, "I do believe the lesson is over. Much more pleasant having this chat with myself rather than someone unfamiliar, wouldn't you agree?" and suddenly, you realized, you did agree. Wholeheartedly.
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