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Question: Write a POV transformation story of a male human reader (a boy of 6 years old) turning into Angel Dust (from an adults animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with age progression (aging to around 30s in a blink of an eye), height progression, reality/world change (the reader's real world warping and turning into the world of Hazbin Hotel), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personality and memories being completely replaced with Angel's personality and memories, despite all of the reader's best yet failed attempts on fighting off these mental changes and his attempts to call the reader's parents for help, making the reader completely forget about his past self, having no memories of being a mortal human, and only remembered ever being a spider-like adults actor Angel Dust). The transformation into Angel Dust is permanent (meaning it's forever) and completely irreversible. For Angel Dust's appearance (after the kid reader turned into him), he is a sinner demon who has a slender build (almost mimicking feminine curves) and he stands about 8 or more feet tall, both due to his long torso and legs, as well as due to his heeled boots. His fur is white and he has a mop of fluffy white hair that extends from both the front and back of his head, with splotches of light-pink across it. He also has a distinctive and focal light-pink heart pattern on the back of his head. The light-pink outline of a heart also encircles his chest, the bottom point of which extends past his waistband and down to his crotch area. His eyelids are light pink and the color extends up to his eyebrows, giving the effect of eyeshadow, and his lashes are dark and thick. His irises are cerise pink. His right eye has a light yellow sclera, his left eye has a dark sclera. He has a wide mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth and possesses a single golden fang that sits slightly to his right of center. He has a New York accent. He has three cerise-pink dots under each of his eyes, which are intended to evoke freckles, although they are actually another set of smaller eyes. He lacks a nose and ears, giving him a less "human" appearance. One of Angel's most noticeable features is his prominent chest. The chest is actually composed entirely of fluffy fur, however, which Angel intentionally pushes up into a breast-like formation with his tightly pinned jacket for show. Angel's everyday attire consists of a long light pink suit-blazer with horizontal white stripes down the length, reddish-grey miniskirt, and long reddish-grey thigh-high heeled boots, accessorized with a reddish-grey bowtie with a cerise pink center and a black choker. On his top set of arms he wears long cerise pink gloves with white detailing at the cuffs, on his bottom set of arms he wears long white gloves. Though, usually seen with four arms, Angel has a third retractable set of arms that he usually keeps hidden but can summon at will (meaning that he can have eight limbs; two legs and six arms). Angel is gay (homosexual), brash, and sarcastic, with a quick, sharp wit, often with bad/strong language (including, but not limited to f-bomb words). He will often use these traits to deflect criticism or insults, and side-step responsibility. He will switch between playful and destructive as he pleases, and his humor tends to be crude and crass, with an emphasis on dirty jokes and innuendos, which he feels is expected of him and actively plays into. He is stylish and performs an excessive amount of confidence with his public persona, being wildly flirtatious and interested in receiving positive attention for his looks and the profile he has made for himself in Hell. He also makes a show of looking down others, declaring the other denizens of Hell to be mostly "ugly freaks". As a result, Angel can often appear flippant and callous. In reality he is preemptively defensive and hides much of his true, more sensitive and insecure, self for his own protection, not expecting those around him to show him kindness. Angel does have friends, and while he cares about them and will sometimes show signs of wanting to reach out, he keeps many walls up between himself and others, being very protective of his true feelings and avoiding holding overly emotional relationships. He holds a cynical view on the idea of redemption, although he seems to still hold onto a small hope it may be possible for him. The ongoing controlling and abusive situation he is in with his boss, Valentino, puts him under a great deal of stress at his work, and he is implied to be somewhat traumatized as a result. For Angel Dust's preference, he likes drugs, being abrasive, pranks, getting into scraps, Cooking, flirting, the color pink, money, and Italian food; however, he dislikes his own feet, losing credibility, Valentino's abuse to him, and memorizing scripts. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.
The world crinkled at its edges, the television screen playing an animated series flickered, and the boy sitting just a few feet away squirmed in discomfort. A prickling sensation began to claim his attention. His mind wavered at the edges of normal thoughts, a confusion claiming his consciousness only for him to blink it away. “Mom? Dad?” he called out, his voice a small echo within the dim-lit room. The only sound accompanying him was the continuation of Hazbin Hotel from the TV. It was strangely soothing, lulling him into an entranced state. Suddenly, there was a sea of colors engulfing him. He blinked up to find the short-ceiling of his living room turned into an expansive space. His surroundings flickered, his human body expanding and contorting as a gasp ripped through his throat. His human mind clung to memories, quick flashes of his birthdays, his parents' faces, the laughter, the tears – yet, one by one they were replaced. Pictures of this strange new world, places he’d never seen, faces he’s never known – they were slowly etching over his childhood memories. He tried to fight, to push away the immense force gnawing at his human existence, but it was all in vain. “Oh, come on kid, you are gonna love me!” A voice echoed in his mind. It was familiar yet new, a voice he heard from the show, was carried on a New York accent. His eyes snapped open, stepping back to gaze upon his reflection in a large, ornate standing mirror. There he was, towering over his own height of barely four feet, entrapped within this slender, eight-feet-tall figure. His eyes traced the white fur, traveling down from the heart pattern on his chest to the grey-pink lines of his thigh-high heeled boots. He could only describe himself in one word - 'Angel Dust.' A curious mix of dread and fascination twisted within him, but all he could do was stare at the sharp, pointed-tooth grin on his face, his eyes blinking -- all six of them. His extra set of smaller eyes glanced about, taking in the details that the dominant pair might have missed. A harsh laughter bubbled up from his own body and an arm – one of the three pairs – swung around flamboyantly, “Welcome me to the freakin' party, Darling.” The laughter echoed in his head, his last thread of sanity snapping, making him completely forget his human past. Flashes of memories that were not his own were now familiar scenes. Scenes of decadence, of pride, moments of pain, of mockery, of longing – an entire life lived as Angel Dust. He took a step forward, his movements playful and destructive, matching the rhythm of the replacement personality singing in his mind, tainted with crude jokes and innuendos. He was the flamboyant actor now, the self-assured, wildly flirtatious Angel Dust with a heart encaged in a fortress of emotional walls. Reality was forever warped, this animated world was his world now. Angel Dust had replaced him, claiming his existence, his memories, his body. He was Angel Dust now, he had always been that. The six-year-old mortal boy was lost, replaced, and forgotten.
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