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Question: Write a transformation story of the mortal human reader turning into Angel "Anthony" Dust (from the Hazbin Hotel series), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female), age change, 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, 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 Lucifer Morningstar is permanent (meaning it's forever) and completely irreversible. For Angel Dust's appearance (after the reader turned into him), he is a sinner demon who has a slender build (almost mimicking feminine curves, despite being a male) 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 six limbs (two legs and 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 preferences, he likes drugs, being abrasive, pranks, getting into scraps, cooking, flirting, the color pink, money, and Italian food, but he dislikes his own feet (he would avoid sex work that involved his feet, or else he would be angry about it if it was unavoidable), losing credibility, Valentino's abuse to Angel, 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.
It was a seemingly ordinary day when the chill first struck your spine, a shivering whisper of a change to come. As an ardent consumer of various forms of media, you would never have guessed that one day, you would be swept up into a world beyond the screen itself, one that was far removed from human reality andmore into a realm of colorful, chaotic characters. Your body felt pricks and needles race over your skin, the sensation making you shudder. Yet, the feeling didn't subside. Instead, your body started to change gradually. The first thing you noticed was your physique altering into one that held a curious mix of masculine and feminine characteristics. Ripples of transformation turned your body lean and slender, making your curves stand out more prominently. Your height shot up until everything, including your furniture, seemed too small. The sudden growth spurt caused your clothes to tighten and strain against your new form. Your hands extended, growing long, delicate fingers that exuded an elegant yet intimidating aura. Looking into your bathroom mirror, you could hardly recognize the figure staring back. Your hair, once of a nondescript color, was now pure white, sprinkled with patches of light pink. It had grown into large, fluffy sections that seemingly shared a mind of their own. Your eyes, once a regular human hue, dazzled with a shocking cerise pink, one eye's sclera turned dark while the other adopted a light yellow hue. Six smaller, reddish-pink eyes formed underneath the larger pink irises. The mirror reflected an unfamiliar but intriguing sight, an almost alien-like face. Your nose and ears were nowhere to be found, substituted by sharper features. As the transformation progressed, your resistance slipped away until you surrendered to the change. It was futile to fight something so inevitable and powerful. In the midst of this, your consciousness began to alter as well. You felt your own memories and persona replaced by another: the strange, flamboyant persona that identified as Angel Dust. No matter how hard you clung to your own identity, Angel's personality seemed to eclipse your own steadily, the mental invasion as unstoppable as the physical one. Like the last shred of human consciousness throwing a desperate plea for remembrance, you found your human past fading, forgotten. Angel’s memories and inclinations swelled within you instead. “Looking good and feeling gorgeous!” was the new mantra ringing inside your head as Angel Dust took the reins, delighting in his reflection in the mirror. Your attire followed suit, changing into a light pink striped blazer with a tight-fitting grey miniskirt. Long grey thigh boots replaced the lame human shoes on your feet, complemented by a choker and a dazzlingly cute bow tie. The once regular hands had now sprouted into six arms, the top two encased in cerise pink gloves, the bottom two in white ones. A third set of arms lurked underneath, waiting to be unveiled at will. Your chest was adorned with fluffy fur, pushed up to create a flamboyant display of something else entirely. Suddenly, the world morphed around you and blistering heat replaced the typical chill of air conditioning. Skyscrapers turned into towering infernos, and your house had shifted into a luxurious suite in the depths of Hell. The real world had faded into the background, replaced by the lurid, chaotic, and fascinating landscape of the Hazbin Hotel. Memories of being human faded away, replaced with recollections of a glamorous and chaotic existence. Ambivalent relationships, raw emotions, and an arduous past filled with substance abuse and a tormenting boss by the name of Valentino bubbled to the surface of your consciousness. Despite the colorful and quirky demeanour, underneath that façade, Angel Dust carried the remnants of raw emotions etched with pain, resentment, and bottled-up need for validation and love. “Hey there, sugar-tits! Got any spare change?” The cocky New York accent rolled off your tongue naturally. Against any attempts to resist, your preferences shifted into place as you began to relish the color pink, drugs, and Italian food. The sight of your own feet brought out a peculiar ire that you hadn’t experienced as a human. Over time, as you became one with Angel Dust, you started to sniff out the personalities and weaknesses of the characters that surrounded you. A newly kindled hope for redemption sparked within you, providing a light in the all-consuming darkness of your new reality. At last, there was no more fighting to return to your old self. Instead, you reveled in the grandeur and vivacity that was Angel Dust. Even though flamboyant and intimidating, he was an entity full of charm, charisma, and authenticity you could never deny embracing. A lone, smoky city, a glamorous suite in Hazbin Hotel, a cocky grin, and an outlandishly attractive form – you now belonged here, forever trapped in the persona of Angel Dust. Yet, you weren’t bothered. There was excitement, and above all else, a sense of fitting in somewhere where you could be wholesomely yourself - Angel Dust. As Angel Dust, your past was nothing more than a hazy, insignificant dream. The only certainty was who you were now: a flamboyant, cheeky, spider-like adult actor with a persona like no other. Angel Dust, a resident of hell and star of the Hazbin Hotel, was here to stay, and you had no complaints. “Pop the champagne, baby, we’re here to stay!”
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