Tails soared over the dappled greenery of Mobius, his twin tails whirring beneath him like a propeller, carrying him to new adventures. Ever since Sonic had somehow transformed into Alastor the Radio Demon, the world had been tense with an otherworldly magic. Tails himself felt an ominous pulse within the fabric of reality, a ripple that clung to his every move.
"What's happening to this place?" Tails murmured with a hint of unease, skirting an unseen shockwave in the air. "I hope Sonic is doing okay, wherever he is now."
Before he could reflect further, the sky itself seemed to crack open, sucking the vibrant blue away and replacing it with fiery reds and deep purples. He barely had time to react before a voice broke through, echoing in malevolent tones.
"Welcome to Hell, dear Tails," a voice chortled, unmistakably Alastor's, laced with sinister joy.
Tails fought against the pull, his fur standing on end. "No! This can't be happening!"
But the world was already warping around him. Trees twisted into dark masses of writhing tendrils, buildings morphed into Gothic, broken spires, and the air grew thick with sulfurous fumes. Tails' own form began to distort, wrenching and popping in ways that were far from natural. He screamed, high and shrill, as his body elongated, his orange fur turning a stark white.
"N-No! Stop! Somebody he-help me!" His voice cracked, growing deeper and rougher with each agonizing second. "I'm... not..."
But words failed him as memories of mechanical tinkering, adventurous flights with Sonic, and warm laughter dimmed. In their place surged new recollections—grungy alleyways, raunchy performances, and countless moments under the oppressive gaze of Valentino, the sinful overlord who bound him.
"Ah, baby! Look what we have here," a voice purred. Valentino slithered into view, his grin wide and menacing. "You're mine now, and oh, what a transformation!"
Tails, now hunched over and still changing, gripped his head, fighting off the invasion of new thoughts. "No, I'm not a—a freakin' demon! Get out of my head!"
But his hands were no longer gloved but adorned with cerise pink and white. His stature continued to rise, surging past heights he had never imagined, until he towered at a daunting 8 feet. His once innocent eyes hardened, irises morphing into a cerise hue, laden with seductive charm and peppered with malice.
As his body finalized its transformation, clad entirely in a long light pink blazer with white stripes, a miniskirt, and thigh-high heeled boots, Tails no longer existed. The famous two-tailed fox was a vision of a long-gone past, erased from existence and replaced by the form of Angel Dust.
Angel Dust stood tall, straightening his attire and flashing a sharp, golden fang in a predatory grin. "Hey there, sugar! Tough luck on trying to fight it. But now, I'm the real star of this show." His New York accent spruced with unmistakable sass.
Valentino clapped slowly. "Welcome back, Angel. We have a lot of... business to attend to."
Angel's grin lost none of its luster, but somewhere deep within, a part of his true self trembled. The transformation was complete; only fragments of Tails' innocence hung in the shredded remnants of an abandoned soul. Not that Angel Dust was going to let it show.
"Alright, Valtie, whatcha got for me this time?" Angel retorted with a wave of his six, perfectly manicured, effeminate arms.
Valentino's eyes glittered with possessive glee. "It's showtime, darling."
In the heart of this new demonic realm, the ex-fox accepted his fate, fully embracing the chaotic life imposed upon him, though ghostly remnants of Tails' former reality flickered in the recesses of his mind—like fleeting echoes of a dream once fervently lived.
"'S just business, ain't it?" Angel Dust's playful smirk never wavered as he sauntered deeper into the dazzling nightmare, now well and truly his domain.
This story was generated by user Fizzarolli-Attack-2 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
Prompt: Write a transformation story of Tails (from the Sonic The Hedgehog games) turning into Angel Dust (from the adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with clothes gaining (where Angel Dust's clothes appear on his body out of nowhere), age progression (turning from 8 years old somewhere in his 30s), height progression (growing from 2.7 feet tall to 8 feet tall), reality change (Tails's world warping and turning into the world of Hazbin Hotel), and mind/mental change (with Tails's personality and memories being completely replaced with Angel Dust's personality and memories, despite his best efforts on fighting off to preserve his personality and memories, making him only remember being Angel Dust). For Angel Dust's appearance (after Tails 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 (including but not limited to Tails or Angel Dust) in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking (including profanities/swears that are used/said by Angel Dust, Valentino, etc). This story takes place after the story in this link: https://www.theinternet.io/ai/story/detail/fading-echoes-the-rise-of-the-radio-demon/ , meaning that Sonic had already transformed into Alastor the Radio Demon.
Response: Tails soared over the dappled greenery of Mobius, his twin tails whirring beneath him like a propeller, carrying him to new adventures. Ever since Sonic had somehow transformed into Alastor the Radio Demon, the world had been tense with an otherworldly magic. Tails himself felt an ominous pulse within the fabric of reality, a ripple that clung to his every move. "What's happening to this place?" Tails murmured with a hint of unease, skirting an unseen shockwave in the air. "I hope Sonic... er, Alastor is doing okay, wherever he is now." Before he could reflect further, the sky itself seemed to crack open, sucking the vibrant blue away and replacing it with fiery reds and deep purples. He barely had time to react before a voice broke through, echoing in malevolent tones. "Welcome to Hell, dear Tails," a voice chortled, unmistakably Alastor's, laced with sinister joy. Tails fought against the pull, his fur standing on end. "No! This can't be happening!" But the world was already warping around him. Trees twisted into dark masses of writhing tendrils, buildings morphed into Gothic, broken spires, and the air grew thick with sulfurous fumes. Tails' own form began to distort, wrenching and popping in ways that were far from natural. He screamed, high and shrill, as his body elongated, his orange fur turning a stark white. "N-No! Stop! Somebody he-help me!" His voice cracked, growing deeper and rougher with each agonizing second. "I'm... not..." But words failed him as memories of mechanical tinkering, adventurous flights with Sonic, and warm laughter dimmed. In their place surged new recollections—grungy alleyways, raunchy performances, and countless moments under the oppressive gaze of Valentino, the sinful overlord who bound him. "Ah, baby! Look what we have here," a voice purred. Valentino slithered into view, his grin wide and menacing. "You're mine now, and oh, what a transformation!" Tails, now hunched over and still changing, gripped his head, fighting off the invasion of new thoughts. "No, I'm not a—a freakin' demon! Get out of my head!" But his hands were no longer gloved but adorned with cerise pink and white. His stature continued to rise, surging past heights he had never imagined, until he towered at a daunting 8 feet. His once innocent eyes hardened, irises morphing into a cerise hue, laden with seductive charm and peppered with malice. As his body finalized its transformation, clad entirely in a long light pink blazer with white stripes, a miniskirt, and thigh-high heeled boots, Tails no longer existed. The famous two-tailed fox was a vision of a long-gone past, erased from existence and replaced by the form of Angel Dust. Angel Dust stood tall, straightening his attire and flashing a sharp, golden fang in a predatory grin. "Hey there, sugar! Tough luck on trying to fight it. But now, I'm the real star of this show." His New York accent spruced with unmistakable sass. Valentino clapped slowly. "Welcome back, Angel. We have a lot of... business to attend to." Angel's grin lost none of its luster, but somewhere deep within, a part of his true self trembled. The transformation was complete; only fragments of Tails' innocence hung in the shredded remnants of an abandoned soul. Not that Angel Dust was going to let it show. "Alright, Valtie, whatcha got for me this time?" Angel retorted with a wave of his six, perfectly manicured, effeminate arms. Valentino's eyes glittered with possessive glee. "It's showtime, darling." In the heart of this new demonic realm, the ex-fox accepted his fate, fully embracing the chaotic life imposed upon him, though ghostly remnants of Tails' former reality flickered in the recesses of his mind—like fleeting echoes of a dream once fervently lived. "'S just business, ain't it?" Angel Dust's playful smirk never wavered as he sauntered deeper into the dazzling nightmare, now well and truly his domain.
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