Helluva Berry Published: Jan 2, 2026 By TransformationHub It was Octavia’s idea, a day out, just the two of them, exploring the weirdest corners of the underworld with a pair of shimmering golden tickets. Loona acted annoyed, but she pocketed her ticket all the same, following Octavia to the legendary Demonio Chocolatier’s factory. The gates were twisted into leering faces, chocolate fountains bubbling with molten caramel that shimmered with a supernatural glow. The air pulsed with sugar, spice, and something faintly dangerous. Inside, the tour began with a chorus of impish cherubs and a dazzling display of living candies. Octavia’s eyes shone with excitement as she tugged Loona along, pointing out liquorice vines writhing along the walls, caramel lakes with fudge boats, and a marshmallow imp that tried to climb Loona’s leg before she shooed it away with a growl. Room after room, Octavia marvelled at the wonders, but Loona’s enthusiasm was nowhere to be seen. She trailed behind, hands shoved deep in her jacket pockets, tail flicking with impatience. “You said we’d get to eat something good,” she grumbled, glancing at the clockwork sugar bats fluttering overhead. “I’d kill for a smoke right now.” Octavia nudged her gently. “Just try to enjoy it. We’re almost at the inventing room, it’s the best part. But for the love of Hell, don’t touch anything without reading the signs.” At last, they reached the heart of the factory. The Inventing Room was a fever dream of pipes, vats, and bubbling cauldrons, all swirling with unnatural colours. In the centre stood a monstrous gum-making machine, its runes glowing and metal jaws grinning, surrounded by warning placards in every language, most of them ominous. Loona paced near the gum machine, growing more agitated as she patted her jacket pockets. “Damn it. Forgot my cigarettes.” She eyed the machine, watching as a single, shimmering piece of gum, violet and gold, almost pulsing with power, rolled down the chute and landed on a silver tray. The sign above it read: “Three Course Gum: A Full Sinful Meal in One Chew. Experimental! (Not for mortal consumption.)” Octavia, already eyeing the controls warily, shook her head. “Loona, don’t even think about it. Last time you ate something in a demon factory, you burped fire for a week.” But Loona wasn’t listening. With a grumble, she snatched up the gum, holding it between her claws. “Better this than nothing. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s just candy.” She popped it into her mouth, chewing with a defiant snap. Octavia blinked, watching Loona chewing on the gum. “Loona, are you sure you should chew that gum? Who knows what the randomiser has put into it?” “You friend is right you know. You shouldn’t eat something you don’t know anything about,” a voice stated. “Who was that?” Loona quizzed, raising an eyebrow. “Oh right, that was written on the tickets. The entire factory is run by a mysterious demon spirit that no-one ever sees.” Octavia rubbed her eyes. “It’s like some sort of fantasy movie. Maybe you should listen to the boss.” “It’s just gum, what's it going to do to a hellhound after all we are the alphas, the top dogs, the…” Loona trailed off, coughing a little as a blazing heat washed over her tongue. It felt like an inferno hotter than hell itself was pouring down into her stomach. “Did some spicy content slip into the gum processing?” Octavia asked. “It’s fine. It’s just spicy beef nachos,” Loona wheezed, trying to keep up her tough act by continuing to chew the gum. She shifted her face away from Octavia, her cheeks flushing from the heat. She really wanted to pant, to fan herself with her hands, hell, even shedding her fur sounded amazing as the heat grew within her. “Three courses. Just get through them, then everything’s back to normal. No way I’m letting Octavia see me sweat.” “You sure? I know you said you could handle...” Octavia began turning towards the recipe book. Loona gave a petite pant, gagging as she fanned her mouth. “It’s changing,” she said, quickly stopping panting, trying to look as tough and unfazed as she could as Octavia turned back to face her. “About time,” Loona whined, a little exasperated. “You look a little worse for wear,” Octavia pointed out, “Do you need to spit it out or want me to get some water?” Loona blinked, catching her previous words in her mind. “I mean that the last course was taking too long to change.” As she spoke, a superb chocolate flavour washed over her taste buds, chasing away the heat in her mouth and stomach, and making her let out a sigh of relief. “Too spicy.” Octavia tilted her head. “You don’t need to put up a show for me, you know.” “Oh, please, there’s no show. I can handle it, truly. It’s not even near the spiciest thing I can handle.” Loona’s face cringed as the taste in her mouth altered, mingling flavours of chocolate, chicken, cheese, and ketchup into one flavour that overpowered her taste buds, but in her mind, she could picture it clearly. “Chicken and Cheese burger with ketchup and chocolate with a hint of caramel too. Fucking hell, who thinks this is edible?” Octavia even cringed at what Loona had just said. “Sounds like a health inspector’s field day. I mean, how can you tell the chicken is cooked?” “Seems okay enough,” Loona retorted, cocking her hip. She blew a bubble with the gum, not even flinching as it popped before she chewed it back into her mouth.“Almost done one more course, and this hellhound has successfully chewed this gum. I can’t wait to see the look on that spirit’s face.” Octavia had to stifle a chuckle as Loona’s tail began to wag with pride. Loona gave a confident pose, hands on her hips and snout raised high as she felt the flavouring change; however, her face fell, head lowering as the relatively typical taste started to flow from the gum. “What’s wrong? You look like someone stole your last cigarette or tried to take you to the vets?” Loona growled. “Don’t even joke about that.” She slowed her chewing down, giving a forlorn sigh. “It’s this taste, it’s just blueberry soul pie, and there’s a hint of cool vanilla and honey ice cream. I mean, couldn’t you at least give this some sort of surprise!” Octavia went to reply but trailed off, her voice groaning out as she spotted the short white fur on Loona’s belly starting to shift, a bluish hue slithering up each individual strand of fur. “Uh, Loona… are you supposed to be turning blue?” Octavia blinked, rubbing her eyes. The fur on Loona’s belly was definitely shifting to a bluish hue, each strand slowly changing colour. “Blue?” Loona sniffed, “No, I’m not blue unless you count this ridiculous tracksuit you made me wear.” Octavia stared, transfixed, as the blue on Loona’s belly deepened, shifting from a bright blue hue to a rich purplish violet. The colour crept steadily upward, slipping beneath the hem of her crop top and tracksuit jacket, and disappearing under the waistband of her tracksuit trousers. “Your fur is turning blue?” Octavia remarked, her voice more curious than concerned. Loona, still oblivious, huffed and rolled her eyes. “Relax, Octavia. I’m not turning into anything. This gum’s just weird, that’s all.” She reached into her jacket pocket and fished out a battered pack of cigarettes, her claws clicking against the cardboard. “Huh. I thought I didn't have any on me. Anyway, if anything, I need a smoke after all that.” Still chewing defiantly, she pulled out a cigarette, stuffed the packet back into her pocket, and fished out her lighter. “See? Still just me. Hellhounds don’t get taken out by candy.” She flicked her lighter open, toying with it with practised fluidity as she put the cigarette between her lips. “If anything, I’m going to teach this gum a true flavour!” Loona scoffed, moving to light up, only to freeze, blinking in confusion as the flame flickered. “What the…?” Loona strangled out. Octavia, wide-eyed but deadpanned as ever, tilted her head. “Told you. You’re totally turning violet. Want a mirror, or…?” Loona stared, dumbfounded, at her hand. The strands of white fur coating her hand were slowly turning from a bluish hue to a vibrant purplish violet, with the blue overtaking her fingers and knuckles entirely, except for her black claws, which seemed to catch a faint violet sheen in the light. Narrowing her eyes, she quickly pulled up her sleeve. The fur of her forearm was a seamless purplish violet. She gaped, the cigarette dropping from her mouth, unable to force words past her shock. “I was worried about the chicken, but really it was the pie,” Octavia stated, leafing through the recipe book. “Maybe there’s a warning or a solution in here.” “Oh, come on! This is not happening. I look like I lost a fight with a paint can. Or, worse, with one of those cheap Halloween face paints.” Frustration overflowed in Loona’s voice. Octavia tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile, focusing on flicking through the recipes. “It’s a bold look. Very gothic fruit. Think Blitz would approve?” Loona shot her a glare, but the effect was undermined by the creeping violet slithering up her neck fur, now reaching her muzzle. “If Blitz finds out, I’m blaming you.” She caught sight of her reflection in the polished metal of the machine. “Will you stop spreading!” she croaked in distress, her ears drooping slightly as she watched her distorted reflection grow more violet by the second. In the reflective glass dials, she could see the grey fur of her ears and face patches turning into a much darker, stormy purple, the effect more muted and shadowy compared to the bright white-turned-violet of her hands, a stark contrast to the sheen of lighter violet creeping from her scalp and down the strands of her voluminous silvery hair. “You could pass it off as just a phase!” Octavia suggested. “You know, like what those humans play at.” Loona’s ears snapped up, a growl rumbling from her throat. “It’s not a phase. I’m going to fix this, and you’re helping!” “Yep, I am. But there’s nothing in here about turning violet,” Octavia replied, tapping her foot. Octavia turned back to Loona, stifling a laugh as she took in the patchwork-violet hellhound, Loona’s black nose sticking out like a sore thumb against the discoloured fur. The patchwork effect of muted violet and pure violet crept along the length of Loona’s tail. “Any bright ideas? I refuse to leave here until I’m no longer violet,” Loona huffed. “Well, no, I don't know what's happening, but it has to be that gum, right?” Octavia replied, shrugging her shoulders. A low, ominous growl rumbled from somewhere deep in Loona’s belly. She froze, ears flicking uncertainly as the sound echoed in the quiet Inventing Room. “…That wasn’t me,” Octavia deadpanned. Loona grunted as the ominous gurgling in her gut grew louder. She glared downward, ears drooping as her stomach tightened, then straightened again in surprise as a strange, pressurised feeling built in her core. “Ugh… what now?” she muttered, voice strained. Before either of them could react, Loona’s belly began to push outward, swelling against the waistband of her tracksuit bottoms. The fabric stretched, with deep violet stains blooming across her tracksuit, slowly spreading outward as if it were a sponge soaking up juice from the inside. Loona trailed her finger along the front of her jacket, leaving behind a vivid violet streak that bled into the growing stain. She tilted her head, feeling her own weight swelling around her hind paws. Her hips and thighs ballooned outward, the spandex and elasticated fabric fighting a losing battle as her lower half took on a distinct pear-shaped silhouette, planted heavily on the factory floor. “Uh… hey, Octavia? Little help here?” Loona grunted, trying to shift her balance, but her thickening thighs pressed tightly together. She found she had to heft her own weight just to wobble an inch. A sudden crackle from the machine's intercom made them both jump. The demon spirit’s warped, echoing voice filled the room, far too chipper for the situation: “Ah, I see the gum still needs work! Better get the review underway. Fascinating! Your cells are rapidly filling with fructose, Miss Hellhound. The dessert course has triggered a full-body conversion; your skin and fur pigments are mutating into anthocyanins. That’s what gives blueberries their colour, by the way! In your case, a very… dramatic effect. And curious, considering your cells and likely your organs are now producing juice!” Loona’s eyes widened in horror as the swelling continued, her body taking on a glossy, almost juicy sheen. “I don’t care what you call it, reverse it, stop it, or I’ll kill you!” she barked, panic sharpening her voice as her belly pressed further outward. Octavia, ever unflappable, flipped another page in the recipe book. “Well, at least you know what’s happening now. You’re literally full of fruit juice. And science. Looks like the pie was your undoing, so much for candy not beating a hellhound.” Loona shot her a withering glare, teeth bared. “Not. Helping.” A startled look crossed Loona’s face as her body suddenly lurched, nerves sparking with a sharp, electrifying jolt from her backside as juice rapidly filled her adipose tissues. “Fucking hell!” she growled, glancing back at her swollen buttocks. “Like I said. Little Loona is filling up with juice and at quite an alarming rate. The suspense is killing me! How long will she swell? How much juice can one hellhound take?” the demonic voice pondered aloud. “Will you shut up!” Loona barked, tearing her gaze away from her butt as her tracksuit jacket started to ride up, exposing a wide, stretching, reddish-violet band of fur around her expanding belly. “Fine, fine,” the demon spirit sang. “Happy swelling, and try not to explode in my lab. I hate messy situations. Although… Loona blueberry pieces could make for a new recipe if people like juicy fruit.” Loona blinked, rage rising as the intercom faded out. “No! Hey! Get back here, bitch, and fix me now!” “Smooth as ever, Loona,” Octavia retorted. “Though, aren’t you at least a little curious? This has never happened before. Science is literally evolving you into a new form of hellhound.” “Really not helping, Octavia. You need to help me… now!” “How?” Octavia deadpanned. Loona wanted to snap back, but only managed a discomforted whimper as juice rushed in all directions, her upper body beginning to swell. Her shoulders bunched up, the earlier pear shape fading as her upper body rounded out, merging with her swelling hips and thighs, her lower half nearly sinking into the floor. She looked pleadingly at Octavia, unable to hide her panic as her thighs seemed to melt into her ballooning pelvis. She opened her mouth to bark, but her lips and cheeks betrayed her, skin and tissues blossomed elastic and puffy, swelling outward, while the centre of her lips filled with more juice than the rest, making it hard to speak. Her ears stood up straight, fear spreading in her eyes. “Loona, you’re still swelling,” Octavia pointed out, watching as Loona’s sclera shifted from their fierce, threatening red to a deep violet, her irises now a pure, luminous purple. Loona whimpered, pawing at her round body, silently begging it to stop. Her tail felt like an anchor, thick, heavy, and blossoming outward like an oversized water balloon, threatening to pull her off balance with every passing second. Her legs sank deeper into her spherical form. Loona moaned, her body swaying left to right in a repeated, helpless fashion as the juice kept stretching and swelling her. Her arms moved further apart before finally coming to rest, sunken into the sides of her body. Her fists clenched as her arms swelled, gradually sinking, much like her legs, into her planet-sized body, leaving behind deep divots. Loona could still feel her paws and hands twitching fruitlessly as she tried to steady herself, finding herself rocking back and forth on her pelvis. She whimpered, rolling slightly forward, her head coming close to the support struts of a catwalk. Octavia jumped instinctively back, fearing being flattened by a berry. The gurgling receded, and everything became still and quiet. Loona groaned, her muzzle pressing against her own body, thankfully stopping her head from sinking any deeper into its own divot. Octavia, still a safe distance from her now-immobile friend, eyed Loona up and down with her arms folded, taking in the sight of a ten-foot blueberry hellhound. She chewed her lip for a moment, then pulled her phone out and held it up as if about to take a photo. “Don’t you dare,” Loona slurred, cheeks puffed and voice thick, glaring as best she could with her muzzle half-pressed into her own round torso. Octavia smirked. “Relax. I’m just… documenting for scientific purposes. You know, in case you ever want to remember the time you turned into a fruit and nearly flattened me.” Loona rolled her eyes at least as much as she could. “Ha… ha… Can you just… get me out of here before someone else sees? Or before I… burst…” Octavia pocketed her phone and began circling Loona like a cat studying a new piece of furniture. She poked experimentally at Loona’s side; her finger sank into the taut, rubbery berry-fur and popped back out with a faint squelch. “So… if I squeeze your tail, does juice come out? Or do I need to pop you with a straw?” Loona’s ears flattened, mortified. “Try it and see what happens, smartass.” Octavia grinned. “You look like a stress ball. Or a furious beach ball. If I roll you, do you bounce?” Loona let out a groan, her expression somewhere between pleading and exasperated. “I swear, Octavia, when I get out of this…” “Yeah, yeah, you’ll rip my throat out. You say that every week.” Octavia shrugged, then tapped the side of her head as if thinking. “If I had a pin… or maybe a corkscrew… Nah, too messy. Hmm. Maybe if I feed you something salty, you’ll shrivel back down?” Loona could only whimper, her cheeks wobbling slightly with the motion. That’s when the intercom crackled, and the demon spirit’s voice oozed through the speakers, sounding delighted. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend poking her too much, Miss Goetia. She’s at maximum juiciness one wrong move, and we might have a blueberry fountain on our hands! I see your hellhound friend has achieved a record volume. Though her skin and tracksuit are really stretchy… any more strain, and she’ll be Loona blueberry flavored chutney in mere minutes, but that’s what happens when your whole body is a blueberry. Fascinating! Maybe we could feature her in a country fair or a freakshow?” Octavia gave the speaker a flat look. “Are you going to help, or just keep running colour commentary?” Loona’s eyes narrowed, and she managed to grumble, “If you two are done… planning my funeral… Can someone fix this already?” Octavia tapped her chin, surveying the sheer scale of her friend’s predicament. “Okay, so… you’re full of juice, you’re round as a beach ball, and I don’t have a juice extractor just lying around.” She paused, then snapped her fingers as if struck by inspiration. “Maybe if I just… tip you over, you’ll roll yourself out the door and into the parking lot. Gravity does most of the work, right?” She planted her hands against Loona’s side and pushed. Loona budged a grand total of half an inch, then wobbled right back into place, her immense bulk barely shifting. Octavia grunted, put her shoulder into it, and pushed again, only for Loona to remain stubbornly unmoved, like a mountain of blueberry jelly. Loona gave her a deadpan, unimpressed glare. “Really? That’s your plan?” Octavia straightened, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves. “Alright, so you’re heavier than you look. I guess physics isn’t on our side. You know, I always thought hellhounds were supposed to be light on their feet.”Loona just groaned, cheeks bulging out even more as she tried to speak. “You… are… not… helping…” Before Octavia could retort, the intercom buzzed again, and the demon spirit’s voice rang out, syrupy and smug. “If you’re quite finished with your… scientific theatricals, I suggest relocating your friend to the juicing room. It’s equipped for, shall we say, high-volume extraction. Unless you’d rather redecorate my entire factory with a hellhound smoothie?” Loona’s eyes widened in horror. “Juicing room? I am not getting juiced like some overgrown fruit!” she barked, her voice bouncing awkwardly off her puffy lips and cheeks. Octavia suppressed a smirk. “Well, either that or you stay here until you ferment. Your call.” Loona glared, her violet face flushing deeper. “If you so much as roll me an inch, I’ll…” Octavia shook her head. “You can’t even move your arms. Just think of it as… a spa day. For fruit.” Loona let out an indignant growl, but as Octavia tried once more to push her, it was clear the only thing rolling today was Loona’s patience. The demon spirit’s voice crackled with amusement. “Do let me know when you’re ready…I’d hate for you to burst before we even make it to the juicer.” Determined to maintain at least a shred of dignity for her friend, Octavia gave Loona another push, this time bracing her feet and shoving with all her might. Loona wobbled, jiggled, and rolled an impressive if underwhelming few centimetres, then rocked stubbornly back into place. Octavia straightened, breathing hard. “Okay, you’re basically a boulder. A really angry, juicy boulder.” Loona’s cheeks puffed with indignation. “Stop… calling… me… juicy…” Octavia, undeterred, glanced up at the ceiling and addressed the demon spirit. “Hey, can you, like, send a forklift or something? Or are we stuck until she ferments into hellhound wine?” The demon spirit’s voice oozed through the speakers, delighted. “Assistance is en route! Why use a forklift when I have something far more… hands-on?” With a mechanical whirr, a set of bat-winged drones swooped into the room, their metal claws glinting and sensors blinking. They wasted no time, latching onto Loona’s round form with surprising force. “Wait, WAIT…!” Loona yelped, but her protests were cut off as the drones began to roll her none too gently toward the exit. Her head dipped and popped in and out of her own divot, lips squishing and cheeks wobbling as she spun helplessly. Occasionally, she rolled right over onto her head, her muzzle squashed comically before springing back out as the drones righted her again. “Careful! That’s my face, you flying blenders!” Loona snarled, but the drones only chirped in mechanical indifference. Octavia followed behind, struggling to keep a straight face. “Not gonna lie, this is the funniest thing I’ve seen all year. I wonder if you’ll come out in slices, or like a juice box. Maybe they’ll put a little straw in your head?” Loona groaned as she rolled until, with a sudden, undignified thud, she became wedged in the Inventing Room doorway. The drones whined, their wings flapping uselessly as they tried to force her through. Octavia sauntered up, surveying Loona’s predicament. “Stuck already? Guess you really are full to the brim.” She planted her hands and gave a mighty shove, the drones buzzing in to help. With a squeal of rubber and a chorus of mechanical beeps, Loona popped free, tumbling forward into a sloping tunnel. “Don’t let her roll too fast!” the demon spirit called gleefully over the intercom. The drones took position, acting as brakes as Loona rolled awkwardly down the tunnel, her protests echoing behind her. “This is not happening! I am not fruit! You can’t juice me like some… some…” Loona’s voice faded into a series of angry, juicy barks as she disappeared down the slope. Octavia strolled after her, whistling. “See you at the bottom, Loona! Save me a glass, will you?” Octavia jogged down the tunnel, following the scrape and whine of turning drones. She rounded a corner to find Loona jammed in yet another doorway, her massive, berry-swollen form wedged tight. The stress had proven too much for her tracksuit pants, which now sported a spectacular split across her rear. Her tail, thick and glossy, poked through the tear, the fur so taut and shiny it looked ready to burst. Octavia stifled a snort. “Nice view, Loona. Not exactly the way most folks moon the world, but points for creativity.” Loona was oddly silent, her ears flat and eyes squeezed shut in mortification, as she faced into the room, where all manner of blenders, whisks, and cauldron-shaped machines with knives and hammers stood. The drones buzzed and whirred, pushing and tugging her from all angles, but she remained stubbornly stuck. After a few fruitless efforts, Octavia put her back into it, shoving Loona’s enormous, berry-shaped body while the drones gave mechanical encouragement. With a mighty heave, there was a slick pop! and Loona tumbled forward, rolling into the centre of the juicing room. The enormous, cauldron-like device labelled “Juicer and Pulper” dominated the space, its metal arms splayed open welcomingly. As the drones positioned Loona beneath the looming machine, she found her voice at last. “Octavia, please! Don’t let them juice me! There’s gotta be another way…anything but this!” Octavia wiped her brow. “Look, Loona, I’m not wild about this either, but your options are juicing, exploding, or rolling around forever. Call me crazy, but I’m picking juicing.” Before Loona could answer, the drones clamped down, guiding her to the heart of the juicer. Then her eyes widened in terror at the sight of the gleaming needles glinting in the overhead light. “No, no, no, absolutely not! Needles?!” Her voice cracked with panic, ears flattening against her head. “I swear, you stick me and…” She tried to lunge, but her swollen, immobilised form barely budged, arms squirming inside their divots and legs kicking uselessly. Her tail thrashed, but all she accomplished was to make herself wobble. “Keep those things away from me! I’ll bite your circuits out, you…OW!” The first needle plunged straight into her plush, exposed rear, the sting making her yelp and bare her fangs at the nearest drone. “You little…stop it!” Another needle jabbed into her sunken arm, and a third right into her bloated belly. Loona snarled, twisting and snapping her teeth in the empty air. “Octavia! Get these off me! I hate needles! I hate needles!” Octavia just watched, arms folded, eyebrows raised. “For someone who hates needles, you sure do make a lot of noise. Just let the juice do its thing, Loona.” But Loona was far from calm, her body shook and trembled as the serums pumped in, her rage boiling over in helpless sputters and snarls. “I’ll…ow!...I’ll rip out your wires, you flying nuts and bolts…” The demon spirit’s voice oozed out of the speakers, maddeningly cheerful. “Just a little reinforcement for your bones and organs, Miss Hellhound. Wouldn’t want the star of the show to burst, hmm?” Loona’s cheeks burned with humiliation as the stinging injections finished, her butt, arms, and belly all tingling and sore. She glared daggers at Octavia, but her protests faded as glass walls rose up, creating a spherical prison around the blueberry hellhound. Machinery whirred and hissed as padded hammers moved into position, slotting through various holes around the glass sphere, pressing in with a guttural whump. Her outrage was quickly replaced by panic as the pressure built, forcing juice through her fur and out of every seam. “No, no, no, no…d-don’t…” Her words devolved into a strangled yelp as her ruined tracksuit split apart, juice pouring from her thighs, along her crotch, and even out of her tail. Inside the juicing machine, Loona’s world was a nightmare of pressure and stickiness. Each padded hammer pressed deeper, rhythmic squeezing and applied increasing pressure into her bloated form, wringing out more of the syrupy juice that seemed to be her whole existence. With every squeeze, she felt herself shrinking, a tautness leaving her body, her fur slowly unmatting as the juice was forced out. Suddenly, a strange tingling swept through her arms and legs. The relentless pressure shifted her limbs, and pop! Her right arm sprang free from its deep divot, slapping wetly against the padded wall. Another squeeze, and her left arm popped out, followed by both legs as the machine pressed and rotated her, each limb snapping back into place with a mixture of relief and awkwardness. Loona gasped, a mix of pain and relief. For a fleeting moment, she tried to flex her claws just to remind herself she still could—even as more juice poured out from her fur and the last shreds of her tracksuit. From the outside, Octavia watched, wide-eyed, as Loona’s limbs began emerging one after another, her form gradually unrounding. “Hey, would you look at that! She’s getting her shape back. Didn’t know the juicer had a ‘restore to default’ setting.” The demon spirit’s voice was almost proud. “Of course! Once sufficient juice is extracted, the subject’s body begins to revert somewhat. You may notice she’s still quite blue, but functionally, she’ll be back to normal and a bit more flexible.” Inside, Loona writhed as the last hammer pressed in, her body finally sleek and limber enough for her to snarl and bare her fangs at the machine. The pressure eased, her tail whipping as she was rotated upright. With a final hiss, the cauldron lid swung open, and Loona tumbled out, soaked, blue-furred, her limbs splayed wide and trembling. A last, sharp needle jabbed her neck. “And there we are,” the demon spirit announced. “Full restoration minus your former colour scheme.” Loona, panting and sticky, glared at Octavia. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever survived. Ever.” Octavia just grinned. “But you did survive, and look—you even have all your parts back.” Loona flexed her arms and legs, wringing purple juice from her fur, and muttered, “Yeah, but I’m still blue, and you’re still insufferable.” The demon spirit’s voice was bright. “Congratulations, Miss Hellhound, now with less juice, more flexibility, and a lovely blueberry bouquet!” Octavia grinned, crossing her arms. “Looks like you’re not a hellhound anymore. More like a… hellberry. Or maybe a juicehound?” “Oh, hilarious, Octavia!” Loona snapped, her voice carrying a strange, juicy resonance. “If I ever taste blueberries again, it’ll be too soon. Her nose twitched as an unwelcome odour radiated around her. “Wait, is that me?!” As Octavia approached, the scent hit her. Loona's fur radiated a sweet, syrupy aroma, so strong it made Octavia’s mouth water. “You smell like breakfast. I bet you’d make a great topping for pancakes.” Loona rolled her eyes, then sniffed her own arm and grimaced. “I swear if anyone tries to eat me, I’m biting back.” The demon spirit’s voice returned, almost gleeful. “Congratulations! Your DNA and physiology are now optimised for juicing. Your organs are built to support your new… juicy lifestyle. Your blood is juice, your fur is infused, and your life expectancy is unchanged unless you’re harvested regularly. Enjoy!” Octavia gave Loona a quick, tight hug. “You really only have yourself to blame. Next time, maybe skip dessert.” Loona just sighed, her fur still dripping violet in sticky rivulets. “If Blitz ever hears about this, I’m switching companies.” A few days later, the city’s underworld market bustled with noise and neon. Among the stalls selling enchanted trinkets and dubious potions, one display had quickly become the talk of the town: a cheery, handwritten sign proclaimed in bold purple ink, ‘Hellhound Blueberry Juice only $5’. Octavia lounged behind the makeshift counter, a row of jars lined up in military formation, each glinting with dark violet liquid. With practised ease, she wrung out a thick blue towel, except it wasn’t a towel, but a thoroughly resigned Loona glowering in her folding chair, arms folded and tail twitching with every squeeze. Octavia expertly pressed a wide-mouthed jar against Loona’s plush, blue fur, watching the juice trickle down in a slow, syrupy ribbon. Millie, wide-eyed and delighted, leaned in to watch. “Golly, Octavia, y’all really did all that? Turned her into a blueberry and juiced her?” Octavia grinned, flicking her gaze between Millie and the brooding hellhound. “Every word’s true. And I had to do half the heavy lifting myself. If you think she’s stubborn now, you should’ve seen her as a fruit.” Loona shot her a glare, cheeks puffed in mock outrage. “One day, Octavia. One day, I’m going to juice you. And then I’ll sell you for half price.” Millie giggled, swirling a jar in the sunlight. The juice glowed a deep, enchanting violet. “Well, sugar, you taste amazing. Blitz is gonna be so jealous he missed this!” Octavia winked. “Best juice in town, limited edition. I’ve already had four imps and a succubus ask for a punch card.” Loona’s blue tail twitched, but she couldn’t hide the reluctant smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re all on my shitlist,” she grumbled, pretending to sulk as Octavia filled another jar. “And if anyone asks, I’m charging extra for paw-squeezed.” Millie laughed, raising her jar in a toast. “To new beginnings, blue fur, and the weirdest business venture in the city!” Octavia joined her in the toast, while Loona just rolled her eyes, but the hint of pride in her gaze was unmistakable as she watched another customer buy a jar, her new, bizarre life bottled and ready for business. And as the day wore on, the legend of Hellhound Blueberry Juice only grew much to Loona’s eternal amusement, annoyance, and surprisingly, a little satisfaction.