Loona’s pounding head felt as though it were splitting in half, and her claws clutched at her temples, strands of silvery hair clinging to them. “Goddamn it, what is this shit?” she growled, her voice snarling through her sharpening teeth. Her red sclera glowed with irritation under heavy eyelids struggling against the encroaching darkness.
The hellhound stumbled through the living room of IMP Headquarters, knocking over a stack of papers and nearly tripping over Moxxie, who was blissfully unaware and cursing under his breath about yet another of Blitzø’s insane schemes.
“Loona! Watch where—” Moxxie began but was cut off sharply.
“Fuck off, Moxxie,” Loona hissed, her voice straining as the pain inside her skull flared again. She shoved him aside and crashed into the tiny kitchen, her claws leaving soft scratches on the counter as she tried to catch her bearings.
Inside her mind, an eerie, disembodied voice echoed: *You were never a hellborn demon. Never Loona. Awake, and remember your true self.*
“Who the fuck said that?” Loona groaned, her head bowing forward as the world seemed to ripple around her.
Her bones shuddered and began to stretch, her spine cracking horridly as her height increased rapidly. The fur that covered her body started to quiver and retract like a snapshot of rapid evolution in reverse. As the fur vanished, beige skin took its place, smooth yet foreign. Her pointed muzzle shortened and her face refined, taking on the contours of an eerie human-like form.
“No! This isn’t happening!” Loona screamed, her voice deeper now, richer and more resonant. *It’s a dream. Just a fucking dream!*
*Not a dream,* the voice crooned soothingly, *just a return.*
The physical changes rippled further down her body. Loona felt her cleavage flattening painfully, her feminine curves straightening out into a slender, dapper frame. Her once broad, furred tail slithered back into her spine, replaced with the crisp professionalism of a long coat's tails. More changes struck with alarming speed: her ovaries and uterus twisted and retracted, sensitive flesh inverting and forming newly prominent male genitalia.
The scent of old-time radio static filled the air as the transformation neared its climax. Her voluminous silver hair melted into a cropped, angled bob of red tinged with black tips, and short black antlers protruded awkwardly from her altered skull.
*You are Alastor,* the voice insisted. *Never a hellhound. You have always been the Radio Demon.*
Loona fought, silenced by the rising tide of another’s memories. She recalled a life of radio broadcasts, infamy among Hell’s denizens, and the eldritch thrill of power—a stark contrast to her days of empty scowling and apathetic rebellion.
“No! I am Loona! Blitzø’s daughter!” She managed one last, desperate shout before the voice didn't just whisper but enveloped her psyche.
“You’re quite mistaken,” the voice said, now part of him. His. “I’ve always been Alastor, the Radio Demon,” he declared, his tone smooth and confident with a hint of that old-fashioned charm.
Alastor glanced down at his cane, the sentient microphone perched at the top as if waiting for its cue. He spun it theatrically, reveling in the familiar glide through his now red-gloved fingers. “Ah, much better. Now, what were we discussing before I was so rudely interrupted by this trivial daydream?”
He chuckled, rubbing his monocle absentmindedly and straightening his red pinstripe coat. Thoughts of Loona faded like a distant echo; she was a figment, a murky shadow not worthy of his attention.
Here he was: Alastor, the inimitable Radio Demon, ever-present with his sinister grin, ready to claim his place in the tangible nightmare of Hell’s social hierarchy once more.
This story was generated by user Fizzarolli-Attack-2 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
Prompt: Write a transformation story of Loona (from the adults cartoon/animated series Helluva Boss) turning into Alastor (from the adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with gender change (turning from female to male, her feminine curves vanishing, while her breasts vanishes, and her vagina, ovaries, and uterus invert themselves before pushing out of her nether region as testicles and a penis), 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, as the voice tells the changing entity (formerly Loona) that he was never a hellborn demon (more specifically a hellhound) named Loona, since he was daydreaming all this time, and that he has always been Alastor the Radio Demon, despite his best efforts on fighting off his new memories/personality, making him fully believe in the voice in his head and know that he had always been a sinner demon known as the Radio Demon, causing him to completely forget his previous self, since that was only a dream and not real, so he remembers and knows that he has always been the overlord of Hell named Alastor, which is his true self and true life, unlike his supposed life as Loona, which never existed at all and wasn't real, compared with his true reality as Alastor the Radio Demon). For Loona's appearance, she is a hellhound with a wolf-like appearance (she is bipedal like all hellhounds of the Hazbin Hotel series and Helluva Boss series). 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 a human-like face, beige-colored skin (which has no fur), and has a broad smile full of sharp, yellow teeth (he always has a permanent smile, even when his mouth is closed and when his mouth is opened). He is approximately 7 feet tall (he is bipedal like all sinner demons). 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 "fuck" and "shit" and so many more, 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.
Response: Loona’s pounding head felt as though it were splitting in half, and her claws clutched at her temples, strands of silvery hair clinging to them. “Goddamn it, what is this shit?” she growled, her voice snarling through her sharpening teeth. Her red sclera glowed with irritation under heavy eyelids struggling against the encroaching darkness. The hellhound stumbled through the living room of IMP Headquarters, knocking over a stack of papers and nearly tripping over Moxxie, who was blissfully unaware and cursing under his breath about yet another of Blitzø’s insane schemes. “Loona! Watch where—” Moxxie began but was cut off sharply. “Fuck off, Moxxie,” Loona hissed, her voice straining as the pain inside her skull flared again. She shoved him aside and crashed into the tiny kitchen, her claws leaving soft scratches on the counter as she tried to catch her bearings. Inside her mind, an eerie, disembodied voice echoed: *You were never a hellborn demon. Never Loona. Awake, and remember your true self.* “Who the fuck said that?” Loona groaned, her head bowing forward as the world seemed to ripple around her. Her bones shuddered and began to stretch, her spine cracking horridly as her height increased rapidly. The fur that covered her body started to quiver and retract like a snapshot of rapid evolution in reverse. As the fur vanished, beige skin took its place, smooth yet foreign. Her pointed muzzle shortened and her face refined, taking on the contours of an eerie human-like form. “No! This isn’t happening!” Loona screamed, her voice deeper now, richer and more resonant. *It’s a dream. Just a fucking dream!* *Not a dream,* the voice crooned soothingly, *just a return.* The physical changes rippled further down her body. Loona felt her cleavage flattening painfully, her feminine curves straightening out into a slender, dapper frame. Her once broad, furred tail slithered back into her spine, replaced with the crisp professionalism of a long coat's tails. More changes struck with alarming speed: her ovaries and uterus twisted and retracted, sensitive flesh inverting and forming newly prominent male genitalia. The scent of old-time radio static filled the air as the transformation neared its climax. Her voluminous silver hair melted into a cropped, angled bob of red tinged with black tips, and short black antlers protruded awkwardly from her altered skull. *You are Alastor,* the voice insisted. *Never a hellhound. You have always been the Radio Demon.* Loona fought, silenced by the rising tide of another’s memories. She recalled a life of radio broadcasts, infamy among Hell’s denizens, and the eldritch thrill of power—a stark contrast to her days of empty scowling and apathetic rebellion. “No! I am Loona! Blitzø’s daughter!” She managed one last, desperate shout before the voice didn't just whisper but enveloped her psyche. “You’re quite mistaken,” the voice said, now part of him. His. “I’ve always been Alastor, the Radio Demon,” he declared, his tone smooth and confident with a hint of that old-fashioned charm. Alastor glanced down at his cane, the sentient microphone perched at the top as if waiting for its cue. He spun it theatrically, reveling in the familiar glide through his now red-gloved fingers. “Ah, much better. Now, what were we discussing before I was so rudely interrupted by this trivial daydream?” He chuckled, rubbing his monocle absentmindedly and straightening his red pinstripe coat. Thoughts of Loona faded like a distant echo; she was a figment, a murky shadow not worthy of his attention. Here he was: Alastor, the inimitable Radio Demon, ever-present with his sinister grin, ready to claim his place in the tangible nightmare of Hell’s social hierarchy once more.
AI Prompts: 1
AI Prompts: 1
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