Alastor: Male, turns into Katie Killjoy: Female, age regressions to 13 and 20, height regression to 4'9", and mind/mental changes that make her completely forget she was Alastor the Radio Demon and

Alastor stood in his room at the Hazbin Hotel, his ever-present smile broad and filled with those razor-sharp teeth that could unnerve even the bravest of demons. The room was filled with old jazz tunes, the static ambiance of a vintage radio playing softly in the background, as if the room itself were a living homage to a bygone era. It was just another day in Hell for Alastor when a strange shimmer appeared in the air before him, almost like the distortion of an old television screen. Alastor’s curiosity piqued—anything new was a delightful departure from the mundane. He stepped closer, and before he could react, the shimmer engulfed him completely. The world tilted, and Alastor found himself in a swirling vortex of colors and sounds. Discomfort ran down his spine as he felt his body begin to shift and change. Beige-colored skin pales to a ghostly white, his once elaborate bob-cut of pinkish-red hair turned to a light blonde, flaring into an almost fan-like shape. The black antlers protruding from his head shrink and dissolve, his ears reforming into pointed shapes more congruent with elegance than his previous deer-like form. His eyes, dark-red sclerae with bright-red irises, grew lighter. Alastor blinked furiously as his vision blurred, reshaping to rose-red with small white pupils. Height was once a point of pride for him, standing tall at seven feet, yet now his frame shrunk and diminished, leaving him just slightly taller than average, but with a different commanding presence altogether. The change was agonizingly intricate. His dark-red pinstripe coat morphed into a short rose-red dress with a low-cut sweetheart neckline. Sleeves stretched out, encased his arms, and shoulder pads gave him a more severe, commanding look. No longer did his forearms and lower legs fade to dark grey—his skin remained consistently pale throughout, making him appear almost statuesque. As the transformation continued, Alastor’s monstrous deer hooves reverted to slender, human-like feet. His black gloves faded into nothingness, revealing delicate and manicured hands. The transformation extended deep into his mental state—every memory of him broadcasting his voice through his sentient microphone vanished. Every vile deed, every ounce of his malevolent glee drifted away like smoke on the wind. He felt a snapping within his consciousness, like a hundred radio dials all turning at once to silence. New memories flooded in: the newsroom, the relentless pursuit of the latest scoop, the flawless image she projected as the head anchor of 666 News. She could almost hear her own voice echoing in her mind, sharp and critical. Katie Killjoy stood where Alastor once existed. She blinked, a sharp cracking sound accompanying the motion of her slender frame. Everything was as it should be: her rose-red dress, her hair impeccably styled, and her mind filled with the life she'd always known—consumed with her career and disdain for almost everyone around her. She glanced around, her eyes narrowing in recognition of the room that felt vaguely familiar yet entirely alien. Disgust wrinkled her nose as she took in the outmoded decor. “What in Hell am I doing here?” she spat, her voice dripping with the same acidity she used on-air. She straightened herself, smoothing out her dress, and turned on her heel, already thinking about how she could twist this peculiar event into a newsworthy story. In the back of her mind, a lingering static resided, almost as if a whisper of a forgotten voice tried to break through, but Katie Killjoy had no time for such nonsense. She was a head anchor—forever driven, forever relentless. And so, the Radio Demon was no more, replaced wholeheartedly by Katie Killjoy.

It was a day like any other; the cacophonous chorus of Sin City was in full swing and the wandering sounds of misery and lavish debauchery commanded the airwaves. Alastor, the Radio Demon, found himself once again drowning in the tumultuous soundscape of the Hazbin Hotel. But unbeknownst to him, fate had decreed a formidable twist in his story that day. Alastor, despite his menacing position within the hierarchical landscape of Hell, was gripped by an unexplainable intrigue towards a certain news anchor, Katie Killjoy. Her savage wit, biting sarcasm and the derisive delivery of her news broadcasts had always struck a chord in him. A strange amulet, shaped like a microphone, had surfaced mysteriously in his residence – it had an iridescence that seemed to resonate with a song he had been yearning to hear, a song only Katie’s voice could evoke. Alastor reached for it. But as his red finger grazed the object, something strange happened. A jolt shot through his body, warping his vision, blurring his memories. Alastor’s seven-foot frame was seized, and the feeling of his skin stretching, tightening, and sharply contracting overwhelmed him. His once beige skin whiting out to a pale tone, while his sharp yellow teeth rounded off and became smaller. The low pitch of his voice chipper and higher, morphing into a seamless match of Katie’s voice. The change was swift, yet dense. His eyes, once stroked in shades of red, paled to a roseate hue and his pupils shrunk to a pinpoint size. The broad smile on his face shrunk, morphing into a cunning, somewhat sardonic smirk. The cropped bob-cut with black tips extended and dyed, creating the magic of blonde locks, while his antlers retracted, leaving only her sweeping bangs. His clothes shifted and contorted, as if animated by a sentient, unseen hand. The pinstripe suit transformed into a snug, short rose-red dress with daring decolleté, black boots replaced with red heels. He felt himself shorten, his legs and arms retracting. Tingling sensations ran down his body, accompanied by strange jutting sensations, like something bursting to come out. Suddenly, Alastor was replaced by a taller Katie Killjoy, with her signature rose-red eyes, light blonde hair, and a satisfying smirk. The shift was complete, the mental transformation a total eclipse. All memories of being a powerful radio demon washed away, replaced with recollections of a female news anchor’s life. Bright lights, sweaty makeup, and the buzz of the newsroom filled her mind. She looked down at the amulet clutched in her hands, not a drop of recognition in her eyes. She was not Alastor; she was Katie Killjoy, the acerbic darling of 666 News, and the unassuming regent of Hell's media world.