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Question: Write a transformation story of Loona (from the adult cartoon/animated series Helluva Boss) turning into Alastor (from the adult cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with gender change (turning from female to male, his feminine curves vanishing while her breasts vanishes), age change, height progression, and mind/mental change (with Loona's personality and memories being completely replaced with Alastor's personality and memories, despite her best efforts of fighting these new personality and memories, making her, now him, completely forget that he was ever a female hellhound, a daughter to an imp father Blitzo, and being named Loona, and only remembered being Alastor the Radio Demon). For Loona's appearance, she is a hellhound with a wolf-like appearance. She has a pointed, dog-like muzzle with sharp and pointy teeth, and a dark grey nose. Her eyes have red sclera with white irises, and she wears grey eye shadow and black winged eyeliner for makeup. She also has a piercing on her right eyebrow with a black hoop for jewelry. Her fur is white with grey encircling her face, grey patches on her shoulders, and long, voluminous silver hair swept to the side to reveal her dark grey ears - the left of which is pierced with two small, black hoop earrings, while the right is ragged. She has a large, dark grey bushy tail with white on the underside. Her outfit features a large, spiked black choker around her neck. Her tattered grey, off-the-shoulder crop-top is held up at the neckline by a series of crisscross spaghetti-straps that form an inverted pentagram. She wears black shorts that are tattered at the hems, with a white crescent moon detail on the right side. Loona accessorizes with black fingerless gloves and thigh-high black toeless stockings, with her black claws protruding due to her digitigrade stance. Loona is a cynical and choleric young-adult Hellhound, who was adopted from an orphanage by Blitzo when she was nearing eighteen years of age. Loona is lazy and shows little interest in matters that are going on around her. She also has a short-fuse temper and is often rude and apathetic toward her colleagues, particularly Moxxie, though her ire seems otherwise indiscriminate. When not looking at her phone, Loona is usually scowling at anyone in view. For Alastor's appearance (after Loona turned into him), he is a slim, dapper sinner demon with beige-colored skin, and usually has a broad smile full of sharp, yellow teeth. He is approximately 7 feet tall. He sports a pinkish-red cropped, angled bob-cut with black tips at the ends and two large, black tipped tufts of hair extending from the top of his head, evoking the ears of a deer. The style has an undercut at the back, and two small black antlers protruding from the crown, which can grow in size in his full demonic form. Alastor's eyes have dark-red sclerae, bright-red irises and thin black pupils (which can change into the shape of radio dials when shifting into his full demon form). His forearms and lower legs fade to dark grey, and he has red hoofed toes and red fingers. Alastor wears a red pinstripe coat with dark-red lapels piped with white, which is ragged along the bottom hem. Underneath this he wears a bright red dress-shirt with a black cross on the chest, and long black dress pants with matching bright red cuffs. He also wears a dark-red oval-shaped monocle, rimmed with black, over his right eye. He accessorizes with a black knotted bowtie with a bright red center, black gloves with red at the fingertips, and black pointed-toe boots with red deer hoofprints emblazoned on the soles. Alastor also carries a thin cane with a sentient vintage style microphone attached to it, which he uses to play sound effects and broadcast his voice. Alastor stands out from many of the more chaotic residents of hell for his well maintained amiable persona. He gives the first-impression of a good-natured and charming man, wearing a permanently wide grin on his face at all times. Alastor's behavior, mannerisms, and even his voice are similar to an old-fashioned radio announcer and speaks with a transatlantic accent, often using quaint anachronisms such as "the picture show" and refers to Charlie as a "charming demon belle". This playful dandyish exterior, however, obscures a much darker side to him - one with high levels of self-importance - and he will not hesitate to use physical violence when others don't act in line with his very particular values or expectations. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story (including Loona's profanity such as "fucks", but she would stop swearing once she turns into Alastor, making her, now him more refined and less profane) so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.
Loona was in her usual spot in the I.M.P. office, lazily scrolling through her phone while the rest of her colleagues went about their tasks. Her tail swished back and forth, an unconscious indicator of her general irritation with the world. "Damn, when will this day end?" she muttered under her breath, her red sclera eyes focusing on the screen in front of her. Blitzo, her imp father, peeked into the room, noticing her usual demeanor. "Hey, Loona, you wanna maybe lighten up and interact with the team for once?" He half-joked, though there was a pleading tone lingering in his voice. "How about you fuck off, Blitzo," Loona retorted without looking up, her sharp teeth glinting as she smirked. Suddenly, an eerie silence enveloped the room. The temperature seemed to drop, and an antique radio turned on by itself, crackling with static before clearing up. An old-fashioned announcer's voice echoed through the airwaves. "Greetings, ladies and gentlemen! This is the hour of transformation!" Loona's ears perked up, and she looked around, her eyes narrowing. "What the hell is this?" she growled, her hackles rising. Before she could even make sense of what was happening, a strange feeling began to wash over her. Her voluminous silver hair seemed to retract, shifting color to a pinkish-red as it shortened into an angled bob-cut. Her piercings vanished, her feminine curves flattened, and her body started to elongate, growing in height. "What... the fuck?!" Loona exclaimed, gripping her head as her memories began to distort and change. Her grey fur receded, exposing beige-colored skin underneath. Her once-digitigrade stance straightened, morphing her lower legs into red hoofed toes. The sentience in her eyes flickered as they transformed, sclera darkening to red. "No, this can't be happening!" she thought, but her voice was different now—deeper, with a transatlantic accent slipping in. "This is... impossible." Her cynical and choleric nature was being overwritten with an amiable persona. Despite her desperate attempts to hold onto her original identity, she found herself smiling—a wide, unnaturally charming smile filled with sharp, yellow teeth. Her mind was filled with a peculiar sense of refinement, as her memories of being a lazy, short-fused hellhound daughter to Blitzo evaporated, replaced with memories of being a powerful, dapper demon with a penchant for broadcasting. With every passing second, her personality continued to evolve until she—now he—could no longer grasp who Loona had been. The transformation was complete. Alastor the Radio Demon stood tall, complete in his red pinstripe coat, dark-red oval-shaped monocle, and clutching a vintage style microphone cane. "Well, well, what a charming little interlude," Alastor said, his refined voice replacing the crass tone that once belonged to Loona. "Dear Blitzo, it appears our time together has expired." Blitzo looked horrified and confused, reaching out his hand. "Loona, no!" Alastor's smile widened disturbing, but outwardly friendly. "Ah, Blitzo, my existence as Loona is but a wisp of a memory now. I am Alastor, the Radio Demon. And I have much work to attend to." With that, Alastor turned and exited the room, leaving a stunned Blitzo and the rest of the I.M.P. team to grapple with the unfathomable reality that their hellhound was no more. Blitzo's cries echoed through the now quiet office, a haunting reminder of the entity that had once claimed to be his daughter. "N-no... Loona..." Blitzo whispered, his voice breaking. Alastor, hearing the faint whisper, replied without turning back, "Chin up, dear Blitzo. Change is the only constant, after all!" As the transformation adversary vanished into the shadows of Hell, there would be no trace of Loona ever existing in his mind. For now, he was Alastor, and the Radio Demon had made his grand entrance.
Loona sat wearily on her favorite spot in the office, her red eyes glued to her smartphone, scrolling through with a bored, detached air. Suddenly, a sudden body-shuddering twitch started within her. “What…the--” she puzzled as she struggled, standing on shaky legs. Releasing a discomforted growl, she attempted to shake off this strange, creeping sensation. “Knock it off, body. We ain’t got time for this shit,” Loona grumbled as her form trembled again. She attempted to breathe through the discomfort, but it came sharper and faster each passing second. Blitzo looked from his desk, his eyes filled with concern. “Loona, are you alright?” Blitzo’s voice brought her discomfort into sharp relief. Loona nodded, gripping her chair until her knuckles turned white. The scales on her hand seemed to shift, changing in color—and was that a hint of human flesh? “What in the nine hells…?” she muttered, watching her hands change. The once slender hand filled out with more muscle as her gray skin slowly turned to a beige tone, her sharp claws growing shorter, more refined. "Shit, I'm-" But then her voice dropped, becoming smoother, deeper, and the voice that came out wasn't hers. It was male, silky, yet laced with an old-timey resonance. "I'm...changing?" The accent wasn’t hers—more refined, carrying the smooth tones of a radio host, a far cry from her hellhound growl. “No...this isn’t right,” she, or is it now he, declared, a look of genial amusement and surprise dancing on his morphing face. Her eyes fluttered closed as striking chestnut-colored hair sprouted from his head, styled in a peculiar bob-cut with burnt black tips, and two large tufts extended from the top of his head. Small, black-tipped antlers began to protrude from his forehead. Once reopened, his eyes shone not with her usual vibrant red, but had a darker red sclerae, bright-red irises, and thin black pupils. "Sweet Satan...where are my curves?" he exclaimed in shock as his feminine body structure seemed to fade, replaced by a more slender and tall male frame. His height increased as well, the once familiar world around him getting smaller. His thighs slimmed in tandem with his waist, his shoulders broadening. There was a spark of panic —some trace of Loona fighting against it. Then, as his mind succumbed to the changes, new memories and experiences started to flood in, replacing Loona’s ones. Images of the happy-go-lucky demon’s chaotic life were replaced by the memories of a completely different time and place— a quieter era filled with the smooth sounds of jazz and bustling speakeasys. The voice that had beastly snarls and grumping growls was now filled with nothing but an endless playlist of old-timey tunes and witty ambiance. Her mind struggled, her brow furrowing as the unfamiliar memories began to surge stronger. It was bizarre, like watching her life get painted over with that of another. “I...I remember…” he faltered, his voice growing more confident, his panic replaced by calm serenity followed by a sharp, and somewhat eerie, cheerfulness. Finally, dressed in red pinstripes with a confident grin on his face, the transformation was complete—he no longer saw Blitzo as a father but as a fellow rival, and the name Loona was nowhere in his mind. But he knew his own name well. “Well now, isn’t this something?” he said, admiring his reflection. His new voice echoed throughout the room, "This is Hell of a change, isn't it? My name isn't Loona, it's Alastor, the Radio Demon." Despite anyone's efforts, the female hellhound named Loona was completely replaced by Alastor. All of his attention now focused on the beautiful chaos that Hell was, his thoughts danced at the endless possibilities he could achieve now, leaving no room for any memory of the past life he once possessed as a hellhound.
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