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A Seraphic Metamorphosis: The Transformation of a Young Reader into Angel Dust


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Question: Write a POV transformation story of a male human reader (a boy of 8 years old) turning into Angel Dust (from an adults animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with age progression (aging up 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 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 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 day started out as any other for young, 8-year-old Billy. He was just an ordinary boy in an ordinary world, until he stumbled across a peculiar, glowing charm. The artifact was enticingly sparkling although it was just carelessly left discarded on the sidewalk like a forgotten toy. The boy picked it up, curiosity overtaking him. But the moment he did, he felt an odd sensation spiral up his arm. His small hand closed tightly around the little trinket. Then the transformation began. First, there was a sensation, something like being submerged in warm water. Fear prickled him and a gasp escaped his lips, but it was too late. His body elongated upwards, growing at an alarming and painless speed. A blink, and then a minute, he was no longer a boy but an adult aged around his 30s, standing at a wobbly 8-foot-tall height. "Wha-what's happening?" He stuttered, his voice already deepened significantly. His reality started warping and altering around him. His tiny suburban apartment transformed quickly into the gloom of the Hazbin Hotel's dimly lit room. His mind screamed for his parents, for their help, but his call went unanswered in the strange, distorted reality. He tried to cling to his memories, his feeling, his human identity, but all efforts proved futile against the overpowering transformation. As the physical changes advanced, his appearance started shifting horrifyingly. His human skin was replaced with a fluffy white coat of fur. His hair lengthened into a thick mop of cotton candy cloud atop his head while splotches of light-pink spread across the whiteness like watercolor. His eyes, cerise pink and lopsided, stared in disbelief at what he was becoming. A golden fang protruded just right of his center. "M-Mom? Dad?" He stammered, a childhood fear creeping into his voice. But it was drowned out by a hearty, unexpected laughter escaping his own lips. The hysterical laugh had a New York accent. It was not his voice, not his laugh. It belonged to Angel Dust. Billy's fear and desperation began ebbing, replaced with Angel's confidence and brashness. His memories began blending with Angel's, overlapping until they merged completely. Billy became a distant, foggy dream, fading away until there was only Angel Dust. He wore a long light pink suit-blazer, tight enough to shape a feminine curve to his tall, slender frame. His boots were reddish-grey, almost reaching his thighs. His eyes found six arms, their mere thought bringing them to life from his body. Angel stood alone in Hazbin Hotel, Billy was just a faded memory. The transformation was irreversible; he was Angel Dust, the flamboyantly gay, flirtatious actor from Hell who loved cooking, disliked feet, and held an undying hope of redemption amidst all his bravado. He looked down at himself, laughed once, and spun in the room, reveling in the change. "You're one hell of a transformation, ain't ya, fella?" He said aloud to himself in his newfound brashness, baring his golden fang in a manic grin, high on the euphoria of his new existence. It should've been terrifying, but it wasn't. There was a twisted freedom to it, a reckless abandon, something wickedly tempting about being Angel Dust. He felt a thrill at the audaciousness, the brash exuberance. Endless possibilities flashed through his cerise pink eyes, as he turned to face the new world of the Hazbin Hotel, now his reality. The journey was just beginning, for there was nothing left of Billy; only Angel Dust remained, savoring the sweet taste of his primeval, reckless new self.

Answered by gpt-4

Dec. 31, 2023, 9:26 p.m.

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This article was generated in part by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model, answering user Anthonyoarchnis's question. Images were generated with OpenAI's AI model, DALL·E 2. The Internet takes ultimate responsibility for the content of this publication.
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Published: Sunday, December 31, 2023

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