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Transformation Symphony: A Tale of the Boy Who Became Angel Dust in the World of Hazbin Hotel


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Question: Write a POV transformation story of the male human reader (a boy of 9 years old) turning into Angel Dust (from an adults animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with age progression (aging 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 him 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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“Well, kiddo, it seems you're in for a one heck of a wild ride.” The familiar voice from the TV show I'd obsessively watched echoed in my head as my world started to shift and warp around me. My room, once blue with space posters lining the walls, was dissolving and transforming into red hues, the walls dancing with flickering flames and strange monstrous creatures doing odd jobs - a far cry from the ordinary world I was used to. The soft carpet beneath my feet was melting away, replaced with gravel and ash – the smell of sulfur and smoke filling my nose. And, to my surprise, the view from the third-floor window had turned into a vista that looked unsettlingly like a picturesque hellish cityscape. A sign near one of the squatty, flickering buildings read 'Hazbin Hotel.' As my small body started to grow exponentially, it felt as if I were on a roller-coaster, my stomach lurching with the sudden feelings of growing height and an increasing sense of unease. I could feel my anatomy rearranging beneath my skin, my body contorting in a way that no nine-year-old boy's should really experience. Two additional pairs of arms started sprouting from my sides, and I recalled with a start the exact same set that the witty and charismatic Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel possessed. Through every cry and every shriek, I could hear myself – but it wasn't ME. My voice was distorting, adopting the smooth New York accent of Angel Dust, my sentences punctuated with a crude humor I'd never used before. Growing, aging, evolving into something far more dangerous, and far more... adult. In the blink of an eye, I found myself standing just over eight feet tall with a slender build that rivaled many a model I'd seen on TV, but notably more feminine in form. My clothes had changed, too - a long light pink suit-blazer, a reddish-grey miniskirt, and boots to match. The light pink heart patch had appeared on my torso, making me almost unsightly compared to the simple T-shirts and shorts I was used to seeing. I looked down at the chest becoming a fluffy fur mound...far from my 'get-into-box-and-dream' stage of change. “No, this can't be real…” I gasped, clawing at my new existence in vain, a sense of desperation filling my heart to the brim. But my frantic attempts were futile – my nine-year-old self was being erased, replaced with Angel Dust. I tried calling out for my parents, but the newfound self was overpowering. Everything about the boy who loved comics and soccer, aspires to become an astronaut, or how much he loved chocolate cake – every tiny detail vanished. In fact, I found myself having a strong liking for Italian food, pranks, and the color pink. I could feel Angel Dust’s memories seeping into my mind, a wave of nostalgia and countless experiences overwhelmed me. Everything was tinged with the harsh reality of the 'Hazbin Hotel' world. Valentino's bursts of wrath, the cruel life of the sinner demon, the friends who were more monstrous than comforting - it all hit me like a deluge. My transformation was complete – my body and mind no longer belonged to an innocent, nine-year-old boy, but to Angel Dust – an adult sinner demon, a star in his hellish world. And I was here to stay. “Angel Dust, ready for action, how 'bout that?” I chuckled, adopting Angel's brash confidence. Despite the unsettling transformation, I found myself strangely at peace. I supposed it was because my old self no longer existed – I was Angel Dust, forever and always. In the morbidity of my predicament; the awkward yet liberating reality, I could only shrug it off. After all, it’s showtime. I had to make the best of it, right? One thing was for sure, life would certainly be anything but boring. “Oh, HELLo, Hazbin Hotel~!” And with my announcement, every worry of my former self faded away.

Answered by gpt-4

Dec. 31, 2023, 8:54 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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