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Question: Write the POV transformation story of the human reader instantly turning into Moxxie (from the Helluva Boss series), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female), clothes change, age change, height regression (shrinking from an average 5.7-6 foot height to only 3.9 feet tall), reality change (the reader's real world becoming the world of Helluva Boss), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personalities and memories being completely replaced with Moxxie's personality and memories, despite the reader's best efforts of fighting his/her new personality and memories, making the reader completely forget he was a normal person and only remembered ever being a male imp and a husband to Millie, being named Moxxie). For Moxxie's appearance (after the reader turned into him), he is an imp with red skin and white freckles on his cheeks, and he is shorter than Blitzo since he is 3.9 feet tall. Like all imps, he has a short reptilian-looking snout filled with white sharp teeth and without a nose, as well as having four fingered hands (instead of five as in humans), and he lacks any visible ears. His white pointy hair leads up to his curvy black and white striped horns. He also has yellow sclera with black slit pupils. Moxxie has a long red thin devil-like imp tail with a quadrilateral barb at the end, as well as lanky digitigrade legs ending in what appears to be cloven red hoofed feet, reminiscent of artiodactyls. Moxxie's usual outfit consists of a navy-black coat with red buttons and white cuffs, black toe-less pants a white shirt that has a black turtleneck, a large red bow-tie, and fingerless gloves. Moxxie is the I.M.P's weapon specialist; and as such, has a vast knowledge of weapons and often brings a variety of them along during jobs. For Moxxie's personality, he is often the most vocal and realistic of the employees (his boss is Blitzo) regarding the company as a whole despite its dysfunctional environment and is bullied consequently. He is also shown to be insured about himself since he’s not physically strong since Striker, Lin and Joe was giving him a hard time since they believe physical strength is what makes a person strong. Moreover, he is an imp who is easily annoyed and rather clumsy, as he trips over their ritualistic book on the way through the portal to the living world. Despite being a murder-for-hire imp, it seems Moxxie is queasy with unnecessary killing beyond their targets. He also is uncomfortable with the idea of killing targets who have families, and attempts to give people second chances. Moxxie is also shown to have a comical side, as when he talks about killing an entire family, he claims it might be alright if it was just a bad dad or a mob family, saying "That's understandable" in an accent. For Moxxie's preferences (likes and dislikes); he likes cooking, culinary arts, musical theater, classical music, opera, his mother's kindness, being put in charge of missions, and Blitzo's approval as his boss. However, Moxxie dislikes Blitzo prying into his personal life, theme parks, theme park mascots, killing the innocent, pop music, Stolas' wrath, his father's (Crimson) abuse, Loona calling him fat, being the butt of the joke, and Millie stealing his spotlight. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story (including quotes from the reader) so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking. Also, it is a POV reader story, so it should not be in an author's point of view (my, I, mine, etc), and it should be from the point of view of the reader (you, your, etc).
As you look around, the familiar scenery of your apartment melts away, replaced by a more chaotic, uninviting environment. You are assaulted by the smell of brimstone, as well as the sound of harsh laughter echoing through the eerie neon-lit caverns. Your once human senses struggle to adapt, panic skirting at the edges of your being as you attempt to comprehend your reality shifting around you. Suddenly, your body begins to ache, bones shifting and resizing in a disconcerting manner. Fear is the main emotion overwhelming you now as your body shrank, steadily decreasing in stature. Your heart throbs uneasily, as your height started decreasing from a range between 5.7-6 feet down to just 3.9 feet tall. Touching your face to reassure yourself of your existence, you feel a short, reptilian snout in place of your smooth skin. You then tug at four sets of fingers, each set containing only four digits. The realization sinks that you're no longer human. Your frame feels lanky now, and you stumble on cloven hooves as you get the cheese to stand on your new feet. You sway, adjusting to your altered perspective. A long tail swings from your back, disconcertingly taking a life of its own. You eep as the appendage slaps against the cold floor, the quadrilateral barb at the end swinging like a pendulum. You gingerly reach back, the feeling both alien and natural to you. Dressings, the navy-black coat with red buttons, and white cuffs seem oddly fitting on you now, as you unconsciously adjust the black turtleneck of the white shirt underneath. The red bow-tie sat against your chest innocently, contrasting against your now fiery red skin. A mirror materializes out of thin air, its reflection showing you your own handsome, freckled face with an assertive pointed white hair and striking yellow eyes with black slit pupils. You're no longer yourself. You're Moxxie now. Your mind starts to warp, twisting into a new personality shaped by an alien set of values. You feel a cool professionalism that never used to be a part of you, wrapping around your core like a familiar friend. The insistent craving for order and harmony surfaces accompanied by gentler, softer waves of passion for culinary arts, theatrical performances, and classical music. Eeliness sickness washes over you as you try to retain the last shreds of your humanity. Lines between your old self and Moxxie blur until they are no longer separable, and you can only remember ever being Moxxie, the short-tempered murder-for-hire who is more vocal and realistic despite his workplace's dysfunctional environment. You now remember Millie as your wife, your partner, your everything. How could you forget her even for a moment? A comforting thought yet you felt a raw sting from the force of Millie's love, a ferocious, violent love that's not entirely comfortable, but something you can't live without. She steals your spotlight, but you don't mind because you love her, always have, always will. Your heart hurts when you think about your boss, Blitzo. Respecting Blitzo's authority doesn't mean you enjoy his company. You can't stand how he can't respect your privacy, how freely he invades your personal life. Blitzo is your boss, not your friend, he needs to recognize those boundaries. "We gotta run the missions, Moxxie!" Blitzo's voice interrupts your internal monologue. "Yes, boss. I'm on it." You reply, your voice unfamiliar in your own ears. These words, this life, it was all a performance by someone else, and yet here you were, living it now, in real-time, unscripted. Welcome to Hell, Moxxie.
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