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Question: Write the POV transformation story of the human 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 permanently and completely replaced with Alastor's personality and memories, despite the reader's best efforts of fighting the new personality and memories, thus remembering his/her past mortal life is impossible, 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 and is, biologically, somewhere in his 30s or 40s when he died as a human before arriving to Hell as an immortal demon. 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 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). The transformation into Alastor the Radio Demon is permanent (meaning it is forever) and is completely irreversible. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.
The transformation story was as such: You had just finished another hour of online browsing, scrolling through fan art and interactive stories of your favorite characters and specifically, Alastor from the Hazbin Hotel series. As you clicked away at the numerous versions and adaptations of him, you barely noticed the strange, eerie glow forming near your computer. Before you could react properly, a tall, slender figure pulled you into a newly formed portal in your own room. It was then that you realized what was happening; you weren't dreaming, and you weren't hallucinating. He, the one you loved as a character, was right there. Alastor. Before panic could set in, you glanced at your unfamiliar surroundings. It wasn't your room, nor was it anywhere you recognized. Instead, you were at the center of the Hazbin Hotel's lavish lounge. Alastor turned to study you, his wide grin never faltering. "You've seen a lot about me, haven't you?" His sharp teeth seemed to gleam in the light. The voice, hauntingly familiar, echoed in your ears. But a twist to the situation was lurking. "W-what's happening?" You managed, the uncertainty in your voice clear. "I think you've seen too much, dear friend. Now it's time for you to learn something new, something more entertaining," he said, the playful intonation in his radio announcer voice hiding a much more sinister intention. Wide-eyed, you felt your skin prickle. His intentions began to dawn as he extended his hand. A surge of fear and intrigue passed over you. He glanced mildly at your reluctance, finally speaking the imminent, "Don't you want to be a part of the 'picture show'?" A touch from him; that's all it took. The odd sensation was immediate, the feeling of your existence shifting. You screamed as every fiber of your being was being rewritten. Your memory was the first to go, wiped clean as if flipping a reset switch. In a futile effort, you tried to resist, tried to hold onto your words, your past, your image. But the ruthless current of change excluded any chance of retaining who you had once been. Despite the fear and resistance, the gender changed particularly swiftly if you were female, your features reshaping to match Alastor's. Your clothes had changed to match his flamboyant, vintage dressing style. A sensation ran down your spine as you felt your hair morph into something different. Checking, you found two carefully pruned antlers popping out. Your height morphed to align with Alastor’s, reaching a tall and intimidating 7 feet. You felt mature, the feeling of having been in your 30s or 40s when you died. You looked at your hands, which were now sported with red hoof-like fingers. Your eyes shifted, feeling the dark-gray lower legs and arms and then focus fading into a bright red. Staggering to a mirror, you saw your new face and its newly brightened red eyes, bearing exact resemblance to Alastor. You tried to recall who you were, yet the more you racked your disoriented mind, the less it offered any coherent memories. It was a losing battle and even though you strained against the process, you felt yourself lose the will to fight it. You caught your reflection in a mirror and it was as if Alastor had just repeated his daily grooming routine on your identity. It was all wildly shocking, yet subtly settling. You were no longer you. Instead, his image reflected in your eyes. The man you'd admired, pondered over and adored. As your memories of being 'you' faded, they were replaced by new memories. His memories. You remembered killing, remembered Hell, remembered power. You wanted more. Any residual feelings for humanity were replaced by a resolute conviction to assert your dominance. Through the transition, his voice in your head transformed into your voice. A voice that cartoons adored. A voice that feared nothing. A voice that you realized belonged to you, Alastor. Thus, you were reborn. Not as a human, but as an identical twin to your dearly admired Alastor. You didn't fear, you didn't regret. You had become undeniably powerful, confident and more importantly, you lost all connection to your past self. Human identities weren't required in Hell, after all. Your transformation was complete, irreversible and permanent. And looking over your new form, your grin widened. "Welcome to the picture show," you said to yourself, your voice resounding in the lounge, a new addition to Hell's most charming and dangerous resident.
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