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Question: Write a POV transformation story of the male human reader (a boy of 11 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 him 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.
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The usual, mundane life of an 11 year old boy suddenly began to warp and twist one day, as if he were thrust into a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. He felt an intense spike in his maturity, as if he had hopped Cycles of life in a split second. Age progression, it felt like, but it was too real to be a mere growth spurt. "I'm just a kid, this ain't supposed to happen, right?" The boy fretted, his voice trembling. As he teetered on the brink of panic, he glanced at his reflection. His childish features showed the first signs of changing, of maturing. His height began to dawn on him, seeming to stretch onwards and upwards at an alarming rate. "Mom, Dad!" he cried. But the words slipped away into the darkness. There were no parents here in this bizarre new world. Or perhaps, they were existing in another form, another dimension entirely. But he couldn't remember them. Nothing felt real. Just like the physical changes, his mental and emotional states began to warp, shifting like sand dunes beneath a gust of wind. His past memories and experiences started to blur, melding into the fabric of his consciousness. "No...No!" he resisted, struggling for control of his fragmenting identity. His fight was in vain as his personality altered, shaped itself into a mold it was unwittingly being forced into. Then, he remembered... or rather, he became. Angel Dust. The name rang in his mind like a gong in an empty hall. He hesitated, grappling with the reality of his transformation. He was already towering, eight feet tall. He began to notice his body adopting an alien femininity, a slender, curved form, his skin covered in white fur. His hair was fluffy and white with splotches of light pink, forming heart-like patterns. His right eye became a light yellow while the left shifted to a dark sclera. His teeth sharpened, a single gold tooth sparkling in his wide grin. "Woah, handsome much?" The remark tumbled out in a New York accent, foreign but familiar to him now. His insides twisted as he continued to change, becoming more like the character that he now recognized as Angel Dust. His chest tightened and his clothes shifted into a pink blazer and a grey miniskirt, boots hugging his thighs. He noticed gloves on his arms - cerise pink ones on the top set, white ones on the bottom. A sudden realization hit him. He was Angel Dust, completely, unmistakably. "I'm a sinner demon, ain't I? Damn, I look good!" The words rolled off his tongue easily, brash and sarcastic. The young boy was no longer. Just Angel, living on the edge of depravity and debonair glamour. With an undeniably distinctive personality and a garish sense of humor, he smirked at his own reflection. His new reality awaited, in the form of drug-fueled nights, abrasive pranks, and a seemingly endless string of flirtations. As the shift completed and his transformation was finalized, he glanced around at the twisted, Hellish version of his world. He let out a soft chuckle with undertones of despair, "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, baby."
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