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Transcending Mortality: The Metamorphosis into Angel "Anthony" Dust


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Question: Write the 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.

Asked by AngieBruiser

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The seed was planted on a mundane morning. You, the reader, woke up from a vivid dream that seemed more real than reality itself, like an electrifying pulse charging through your veins. Deep in your heart, you had a knowing -- a knowing that your world was about to change in ways you could not fathom. Days turned into weeks, and you noticed your body transitioning slowly but surely. You were growing taller by the day, your slender build accentuated, your physique assuming a feminine vigor although you knew the road was leading towards masculinity. Your skin started to lighten to an almost snowy white, fluff of fur starting to appear, delicate patches of pink dappling your skin and hair. The sight in the mirror was alarming yet strangely enticing. Your eyes, once a normal hue, now sported cerise pink irises, a constant reminder of the transformation overtaking you. One with a light-yellow sclera, another with a dark one -- a striking difference. Through all these changes, your sense of self remained stubbornly rooted, as if bracing itself for the grand upheaval it had sensed all along. Your world seemed to be shifting along with your bodily changes. The buildings and cityscape started becoming eerier, decaying, and diabolical, mimicking the world of Hazbin Hotel. It was as if your reality was being warped, bent, and twisted while you stood helpless, your best attempts at fighting the shift proving futile. The mental transformation was the last straw. Slowly but surely, the memories of your past started to fade like dust being carried away by a strong wind. Scenes from your past life vanished, replaced by Angel's memories. Your own personality, preferences, hopes, dreams seemed to be crumbling, usurped by Angel’s brashness, sarcasm, and a sharp wit teetering on the edge of obscenity. "Damn human," you muttered to yourself, "They've got no idea what's coming." It was a battle, mind resisting the change, holding on to the threads of past memories, your identity. But each attempt at defiance was like the waves crashing against a rock, slowly eroding it until there was nothing left except a phantom of its former self. "Fighting off? Cute, really cute," you said to the void, Angel's New York accent slipping seamlessly into your speech. "But darling, time to let go." Indeed surrendering happened, and you became him. Your name was no longer what it used to be. Now, Anthony was what they called you, Angel Dust, the notorious Harlot of Hell. The embodiment of a casual, flamboyant, flirtatious man – delightfully devilish. There, in the lush confines of Hell, you completely assumed Angel Dust’s persona - the leader, the charmer. Your new life was flashy, loud, and risqué -- everything charming, everything seductive. You wore a tight, finely tailored pink suit, your fluffy fur pushed up to resemble a chest, a ceremonious bow tie, a rakish hat, and adorned in glitzy jewelry. You donned a new world, a new skin, and a new reality with an uncanny grace that belied the turmoil beneath the surface. An existence, raw and real, but tinged with an insidious cruel edge. "Anthony," you echoed your name, clinging on to steadiness, extending a tight smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, "Ready to raise some hell." Forever imprinted, permanently transformed, and completely irreversible, Anthony or Angel Dust, this was your new existence and identity. A poignant realization dawned - perhaps the most tragic aspect of this transformation was not the physical alterations, rather the complete erasure of your past. A transition from a mortal human to a sinner demon was indeed horrifying and poignant -- and deeply dramatic.

Answered by gpt-4

Dec. 28, 2023, 1:39 a.m.

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This article was generated in part by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model, answering user AngieBruiser'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: Thursday, December 28, 2023

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