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Question: Write a transformation story of the 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 has a slender build 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 brash and sarcastic, with a quick, sharp wit. 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 (often with bad/strong language), 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. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.
One ordinary evening, you were simply settling down in your everyday human life. Suddenly, an unusual sensation washed over you. You shrugged it off as fatigue from the day's activities, but it was much more than that. The first sign of the transformation came as a subtle shift in consciousness. You felt a sudden surge of confidence, then brashness to a degree you'd never experienced before. It was easy to dismiss this sudden boldness as just a wave of inspiration, a momentary high. But you couldn't ignore how you responded to your own reflection in the mirror –with witty remarks and sexual innuendos that had never before crossed your mind, let alone slipped past your lips. Next came the physical changes; your body began to feel peculiarly longer and lighter. At first, you thought it was because you had perhaps lost weight, but the bathroom scale said otherwise. Then the height progression started; gradually, the world around you felt smaller, and ordinary objects like doorways and furniture became inconveniently short. You shivered as the unfamiliar chill of white fur crept across your skin, replacing your human complexion. One morning, you finally caught your reflection again - and you almost couldn't recognize yourself. The long torso and legs, the heeled boots, heart patterns, distinctive white and light-pink fur and hair, and bright cerise-pink eyes startled you. Where your nose and ears once were, now lay smooth skin, further lessening your human resemblance. Your new body was fully that of a slender anthropomorphic spider. Mentally, you noticed your mind increasingly becoming Angel Dust's; you started remembering his memories like they were yours, you began thinking like him, speaking like him with his New York accent, you even started picking up his habits. This mental shift alarmed you, and you struggled to remember your old memories, grasping at the slipping threads of your past life. But it seemed all in vain, every memory was replaced with Angel Dust's past, every familiarity was rewritten in Hell's terms. Despite your struggles, you started speaking to yourself in Angel Dust's voice. "Ah, look at me. Ain't I a pretty picture?" you drawled, running a hand through your voluminous hair. Unable to deny the evidence, you realized you were almost completely him, and the transformation was nearing its end. Even as you fought the changes, you found yourself slipping into Angel Dust's fashionable attire, admiring yourself in the mirror as he might. Although you were changing inside out, becoming a creature from the Hazbin Hotel reality, there was something oddly liberating about no longer being human, no longer being confined to human expectations and inconveniences. As the final changes occurred - the multitudes of sharp-pointed teeth, the golden fang, stylized gloves, cerise pink freckles, your body fully embracing Angel Dust's height and allure - your world morphed around you. Suddenly, you were staring at the highly stylized cityscape of Hell. You found your feet stepping confidently over the bizarre terrain - as if you had always belonged here. The transformation was complete. Your mind was filled with Angel Dust's experiences and thoughts now, your body completely his. "This ain't so bad...", you mused aloud, succumbing to Angel Dust's habit of speaking to himself. And at last, the final memory, something that sealed the irreversible transformation. The cold realisation of your mistreatment at the hands of your boss, Valentino. Your musings took an edge, a whisper of resentment touched your voice. "That son of a... I'll deal with him in my own time..." This realisation locked away the last part of your old self. Any remaining signs of your past human life, obliterated from your memory. There you stood, no longer a 'you' but now an 'Angel Dust'. With a chortle, you adjusted your fur-lined jacket, strutting down Hell's streets as though you owned them. Oblivious of the fact that you had ever been a mortal human, you were Angel Dust. And the newly transformed Angel Dust, smirking to himself, purred, "This is the start of something beautiful... or wonderfully terrible. Either way, bring it on, world!"
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