The Forgotten Celestial (Hazbin hotel AU)

Chapter 13: A fractured puppet, a dark obsession, and the kings amusement

**Y/N's POV**

Eight months. Eight long months since I first set foot in the Hazbin Hotel, since I began my mission to infiltrate and spy on Charlie and her crew. It should have been simple-get in, gain their trust, gather intel, report back to Adam, and leave. Easy, right? Yet, here I was, feeling the one thing I wasn't supposed to feel: attachment.

I had broken the cardinal rule of being a commander. I wasn't supposed to let emotions cloud my judgment. I wasn't supposed to feel. And yet... I couldn't stop these feelings.

These demons, sinners, and outcasts-they were starting to feel like a family. A real family, something I never truly had. Heaven gave me a name, trained me to fight, to exterminate, to be the perfect weapon. But they never gave me a sense of belonging. In Heaven, I was nothing more than a puppet, a tool they used to carry out their will. There was no warmth, no affection. No laughter. No *life*.

But here? Here, there was something different. Angel's sarcasm, Husk's drunken banter, Charlie's relentless optimism, Vaggie's stern protectiveness... and Alastor. He was always by my side, always watching, with that unnerving grin of his. It was strange, though. I felt like he was protecting me in some twisted way. Keeping me away from Lucifer, as if he knew something.

Could he know everything about me? The rumors said Alastor was the only Overlord who could unravel even the most well-hidden secrets, that nothing could escape his grasp. It terrified the others, but for some reason, he never let on that he knew who I really was-or did he?

Why was he protecting me? Was it some game to him? Some twisted amusement to watch me squirm under the weight of my own guilt? Or was it something else? Alastor was an enigma, always smiling, always teasing, always two steps ahead of everyone else.

And Lucifer... I couldn't ignore him. He acted kind, almost too kind. I wasn't naive enough to think it was genuine. There was something calculated about it, something that made me wary. He didn't trust me, and I couldn't trust him. I was walking on a knife's edge, and every day I got closer to slipping.

But the truth was, the longer I stayed, the harder it became to maintain the lie. I didn't want to be Heaven's puppet anymore. I didn't want to be the weapon they used to kill. I wanted to belong. And that's why the guilt gnawed at me every day. I was deceiving the only people who made me feel human-who made me feel like I wasn't just a tool.

I had never felt more ashamed of who I really was. **A spy. A betrayer.**

And yet, when I was around them-when I was around **him**-I couldn't stop myself from caring. My heart felt lighter, my smile came easier, and the weight of my mission faded away, if only for a moment.

Maybe I was losing myself. Maybe this was the real mistake, the real fall from grace. But if it was, then why did it feel like freedom?

---

**Alastor's POV**

Ah, Y/N. Poor, conflicted Y/N.

I had watched her carefully from the very moment she entered this little den of sin. It was clear from the start that she wasn't like the others. Too careful. Too quiet. Too... pure. I knew what she was hiding-oh, I knew the moment she stepped through the door. But I chose not to say a word. After all, where's the fun in revealing all the secrets at once?

No, no, it was far more entertaining to watch her unravel. Piece by piece, she was breaking apart, struggling with her role here. It was so very delightful to watch her teeter on the edge, trapped between Heaven's chains and Hell's temptations.

She was supposed to be their commander, their perfect little soldier, a weapon molded by the angels. But now? Now, she was slipping. I could see it in her eyes, in the way she hesitated around Lucifer, in the way she smiled at the residents here. She was becoming something more. Or perhaps, something less.

I couldn't deny that I enjoyed being around her. There was something so refreshingly *human* about her struggle. The way she tried so hard to keep her secrets, while slowly falling into the chaos around her.

I stayed close, offering her just enough guidance, just enough protection to keep her from completely falling apart. Why, you ask? Why protect her? Because, my dear, I know how this game ends. And I wanted a front-row seat when everything finally came crashing down.

And besides, there's something about her... something that piques my curiosity.

She thinks she's hiding so well, but she doesn't know I can see through her. Every smile, every laugh, every glance she casts at Lucifer or Charlie-it's all a mask. And I wonder, just how long she'll be able to keep it up?

You see, dear Y/N, you're not just hiding from Lucifer. You're hiding from yourself. And that... is a far more dangerous game.

---

**Lucifer's POV**

Eight months. For eight months, I've watched her. Every step, every glance, every subtle move. Y/N.

She thought she was clever, hiding her true self behind those careful smiles and hesitant eyes. But I knew. I always knew. The question wasn't *if* she would break. The question was *when.*

I could see the cracks forming in her facade, the way she hesitated when I looked her way, the way she avoided me at every turn. And yet, she lingered. She was drawn to this place, to these people, just as much as they were drawn to her.

What she didn't realize was that I was playing the same game she thought she was. But unlike her, I had already won.

The longer she stayed, the more entangled she became in this world. And the more tangled she became, the easier it would be to unravel her when the time came.