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Question: Write the transformation story of the mortal human reader turning into Angel "Anthony" Dust (from the adult animated series Hazbin Hotel), 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 is 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 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 all began on an entirely ordinary evening. The human reader was simply reading a book, lounging in a big, comfy blue chair near his fireplace. Although identifying as a female, they've always felt a fascinating connection to the character of Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel. Unaware of what was about to befall, the reader's body began to tremble. A sudden wave of heat began to rush through their body, reaching the tips of their fingers and toes. The room started to swirl around, and the once familiar setting of their house morphed into the eerie and infernal world of Hazbin Hotel. The red and purple tones encapsulated the surrounding, the cacophonous sounds of Hell replacing the erstwhile silence of their place. As the physical world underwent a swift change, their body did, too. They could feel their female body warping and stretching. Their moderate height was the first thing that changed. The comfortable chair started sinking underneath them. Their legs grew longer, feminity making way for masculinity, though the curves they possessed merely transitioned locales - moving from around their chest to elongate their legs and torso. They felt dizzy, breathless, as their frame elongated, reaching an enormous height of eight feet. Next came the change of their skin, once soft, it turned rough and then immediately into a white fur. The feeling brought an entirely new sensation, inexact in the human experience. At the same time, their hair, once dull and brown, turned into an almost luminous white, a heart symbol forming at the back of their head. Unmistakably, it was Angel Dust's. The mental shift was perhaps the hardest. They could feel their memories, their personality all receding like a receding sea wave, replaced with emotions, memories, experiences that were entirely different, entirely Angel. They fought back, attempting to hold onto their recollections, their identity, but the alien thoughts were stronger, mercilessly expunging all remnants of the reader's past. They could almost hear Angel Dust's voice in their head now. "Sweetheart, it's gonna be okay. I've managed, ain't I?" Their eyes shot open, revealing the pink irises and mismatched sclera. The absence of a nose felt oddly natural, and despite their best efforts, the reader found themselves reflecting Angel's attitude - brash, sardonic, and overflowed with humor — some of it crude and unsettling. The reader’s reality had become an amalgam of human consciousness and angelic reality. "No more fights Bunny," they said to themselves, the words flowing naturally from their now widened mouth filled with sharp, pointed teeth, with a single golden fang slightly to the right of center. Dressed in a long light pink suit-blazer with a mini skirt and long thigh-high heeled boots, they were the mirror image of Angel Dust. The transformation was permanent, irreversible, like a tattoo etched onto their identity. Their memories of being a mortal human were fading, replaced by a life in Hell and memories of Angel Dust. Their preferences shifted as well; a newfound liking for drugs, flirting, cooking and the color pink welled up in them while their love for their feet and memorizing scripts began to wane down. The realisation of the permanency of the transformation dawned as they found themselves easily pulling out a third retractable set of arms. "No turning back now, just gotta enjoy the ride," they mused in their newfound New York accent, pulling off a confident smile despite the turmoil that they felt inside. The transformation complete, the premium resident of Hell grinned back at them from the mirror - new memories, new persona, a world alien yet oddly familiar. From then on, they weren't the reader anymore — they were Angel Dust, the demon of Hazbin Hotel.
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