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Question: Write a POV transformation story of a mortal human reader turning into Crimson (from the Helluva Boss series), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female), clothes change, age change, height change, reality/world change (the reader's real world warping and turning into the world of Helluva Boss), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personalities and memories being completely replaced with Crimson's personality and memories, despite the reader's best efforts on fighting these mental changes, making the reader permanently and completely forget about his past self as a normal human and only remember being Crimson, an imp and a mafia leader). The transformation into Fizzarolli is permanent (meaning it's forever) and completely irreversible. For Crimson's appearance (after the kid reader turned into him), he is a quite tall imp demon, standing closer in height to Blitzo, with white hair, black and white striped horns, and yellow sclera. Around his eyes are white markings, with the right being larger than the left. He possesses a crooked and bent tail with white accents near the base and on the middle of his tail fork. His appearance is similar to his son Moxxie, with similar hair and shape of his horns, however larger and slightly more jagged. Unlike his son (Moxxie), Crimson's skin is a darker shade of red and his legs appear to be plantigrade (like a human's), rather than digitigrade, but still have red cloven hooves (unlike human feet). He also has short-clawed fingers on his hands. All of Crimson's teeth are sharp fangs, while one of his fangs is a golden fang unlike the other teeth (which are white). Crimson's attire consists of a red high-collar shirt that grips his neck, topped by a navy blue coat with light blue accents, thin red stripes, red buttons, and red lining. His pants are dark blue which also have thin red stripes, and his shoes are black and red-heeled dress shoes. He also wears a black fedora with a red and white band. Crimson is a vicious and extremely ruthless crime boss that controls a large army of shark-like demon gangsters. He is horrifically abusive towards Moxxie since his childhood, constantly levying physical and psychological abuse towards Moxxie, and by extension his wife. He cultivates an aura of fear in those that know him, even towards his own family members and close associates like Moxxie and Chazwick. Ultimately, his greed and power come first to him, and he harbors no remorse for his victims. This comes to the point that he appears mentally prepared to kill blood-related family members, such as his wife and Moxxie, to advance his personal goals. Despite this, he is capable of exhibiting a seemingly jovial, warm, happy, and even charismatic presence when he chooses to do so, such as during his initial meeting with Blitzo and Millie, or during moments when he feels comfortable. However, he can be quick to discard this external display of affection as required. For Crimson's preference, he likes smoking, monetary gain, organized crime, mistreating Moxxie, and hanging body parts of his victims as house decorations; he however dislikes anyone who double-crosses him, anyone lesser than him, and anyone talking back to him. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.
"You seem to have had enough of your mundane world," a strange voice resonated in your ears as you lay on your bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. You startled, your gaze darting around the room, uncertain of the source. More importantly, could this whispering voice possibly understand your discontent? "Your reality is about to take an otherworldly turn," the voice continued, now sounding somewhat amused. An odd sensation washed over you, like your body was slowly sinking into your bed. This bizarre feeling gradually intensified, like your skin was melding into the fabric beneath you, absorbing the color and pattern. Your flesh began to darken to a deep, crimson red, while a peculiar tingling sensation on your scalp announced the sprouting of white hair. "Now, let the transformation begin," the voice commanded, a hint of malevolence tinged the words, sending a shudder down your spine, morphing into a pair of jagged, striped horns. Aching discomfort rose from your feet as sharp, cloven hooves replaced your human feet. An unexpected sharpness in your mouth signaled the growth of a set of fangs, one turning rich and golden. Your clothes fuzzed into existence - a red, high-collar shirt, striking navy blue coat with red accents, and dark blue pants adorning your body while a suave black fedora appeared on your head. With each change that gripped your body, memories of your life, your family, your past simply began fading like wisps of smoke. You tried to clutch onto them, but found it increasingly difficult, like grasping at water. New memories, not yours, but unmistakably a part of you started surfacing overwhelming your senses. A lifetime of reigning as the ferocious crime boss Cipher 'Crimson' Wrangler in the dank and deadly underworld of Hell was etched into your psyche. Lil-Noggin, Hell's premier weapons dealer, Moxxie, your timid son who could never quite measure up to your expectations, your insatiable thirst for power and wealth, all formed a collage of a life lived on the edge. "P-Please, stop…" you pleaded, voice growing gruff, deeper. But your pleas fell on deaf ears. “Any trace of you is vanishing, dear. Say farewell to your life, your world, and welcome to your new reality. Welcome to Hell," the voice taunted, echoing the harsh truth. Your world morphed around you, grimy alleyways, neon lights, and chaos replacing the familiar placid scenes. "No, I…,” you began, but choked as the last shreds of your human memories dissipated, replaced entirely with the cigar-smoking, mafia leader, Crimson’s existence. You could feel the strength of your persona burgeoning within you as your transformation concluded. "Well well, look at you, darling," a wicked cackle filled your ears and your gaze met with a grotesque reflection in the mirror. Crimson. You were Crimson now. There was a finality in the voice, an absolute certainty that left no room for rebuttal. Every bit of you, physically, mentally, and emotionally, had been transformed, your past life long gone. A twisted smile played on your observing reflection. Against your desperation to resist, you were now Cipher 'Crimson' Wrangler, Hell’s fearsome crime boss, intimidating and ruthless.
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