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Question: Write a transformation story of a 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.
Everything was normal, or as normal as life could get in the bustling city. That was until the day you came across an odd, black and red book in a seemingly derelphant bookstore. As you picked it up, a chill went down your spine. Little did you know, this book was your ticket to a parallel universe, which would irreversibly change you. As you began reading the book, you started feeling strange. Your body tingled as if being pricked by millions of small needles. Looking down, you could see ripples forming on your skin as your body started changing. If you were a woman, there was a peculiar tightening in your chest as they shrank and reformed to a slender and muscular male form. Posture changing, you gained considerable height. From being an average height human being, you shot up to around 8 feet tall. Your legs shifting, elongating, and popping was a sight to experience, but the sensation was something else entirely - a mixture of pain and wonder. It felt as if your legs had stretched into a pool of molten wax, but remained sturdy as steel. Your feet changed too, becoming slender and more elongated, slipping perfectly into stunning reddish-grey boots. Like magic, your hands sprouted a crimson pink, fitting the most beautiful gloves you'd ever seen. The world around you started to change too. Bit by bit, the reality you knew and loved warped into a hot, chaotic version of Hell, as you've read in the book, "Hazbin Hotel." The change in environment was not only shocking but outright terrifying - city reduced to ruins, ashes floating in the hot air, and the scent of sulfur replaced what was once familiar. Simultaneously, your mind underwent a wave of changes. Memories, personalities, emotions - everything that made you, you, began to dissipate like sand slipping through fingers. In your mind was another person's life, full of troubled relationships, sarcastic remarks, harsh environments, and adult industry shenanigans. You were desperate to hold onto your sanity but to no avail. The new personality was overwhelming, and it was hard to resist. "Who am I?" you pondered, looking into a cracked mirror. In your reflection, a New York accented voice chuckled, "You're Angel Dust, honey". One by one, your hair follicles changed from whatever color they were to a pearly white. Six more limbs burst from your torso, shocking you initially but fitting with the overwhelming transformation. You looked into the mirror again. Fear, excitement, and disbelief danced in your cerise pink irises. "Another day, another migraine," you said, rubbing your six temples, adjusting to the new character you’ve become, sarcastically comedic and brash. You adjusted your already scorching red bowtie and puffed out your white and pink fur chest boasting a heart-shaped pattern. "I guess life ain't so bad," you chortled, ecstatic with your new lavish fur coat. At that very moment, you felt an attraction towards males, another new instinct that came in, surprising you. Coming to terms with the transformation, you swaggered off, your new high-heeled boots clicking aginst the destroyed pavement, ready for your new life as an infamous sinner demon in this twisted version of reality. Gazing at the lurid hell-sky above, you whispered, "Let the show begin..."
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