Plantonic - Blog Posts

i regret nothing

I can't wait for their banter in the series:))

Can I make a platonic request of Charlie with a human reader that was sent to hell without dying motivating and encouraging her to keep following her dreams no matter what anyone says or what happens when she is down?

ℌ𝔢𝔩𝔩’𝔰 ℌ𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫

A/N: You absolutely can!! I love my girl Charlie—she reminds me of Emma from TPN! Anyways, I hope you don’t mind me putting in a dream that the reader has, I wasn’t sure what to do since you hadn’t specified (but it’s trouble, don’t worry!)

Word Count: 1.1k

TW: None really, unless you count being in Hell?

Reader is gender neutral!

The world around you was a kaleidoscope of crimson and shadow, an eerie dance of flame and darkness. You never imagined you’d end up here—Hell—without so much as dying. There was no dramatic accident, no tragic ending to your life. One moment, you were walking home, and the next, the ground beneath you gave way to this bizarre, otherworldly landscape. Confusion quickly gave way to fear, and fear to despair. You felt lost, utterly and completely. Until she showed up.

♡⋅˚₊‧ ୨☀️୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡

Charlie Morningstar was unlike anyone you had ever met, in any realm of existence. Her cheerful demeanor stood in stark contrast to the grim surroundings, as if she refused to let Hell itself dim her light. Her golden hair practically glowed, and her warm smile carried a sense of hope that felt out of place—yet so welcome—in this desolate place. She found you huddled near a crumbling wall, knees pulled to your chest, staring into the void. Instead of walking past like so many others, she sat beside you, her presence both comforting and curious.

“Hi there,” she said, her voice as soothing as a lullaby. “Rough day?”

You laughed bitterly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “You could say that. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

Charlie tilted her head, a flicker of concern crossing her features. “Not supposed to be in Hell? That’s... unusual.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered. “One second, I’m walking home from work. The next, I’m here. I don’t even know why.”

“Well,” she said, her smile returning, “we’ll figure it out. But for now, how about we get you somewhere safe?”

You hesitated. You didn’t know her, didn’t know if you could trust her. But something about her felt genuine, like she truly cared. Reluctantly, you nodded, and she helped you to your feet. From that moment on, your life—or whatever this existence was—began to change.

Charlie brought you to the Hazbin Hotel, her grand but somewhat shabby project to rehabilitate sinners and give them a chance at redemption. You weren’t a sinner, but you still felt out of place. The hotel was a strange haven in this chaotic realm, filled with all manner of colorful and bizarre characters. At first, you kept to yourself, unsure of your place in this odd community. But Charlie wouldn’t let you retreat into your shell.

She had a way of drawing you out, her enthusiasm infectious. She’d invite you to join her in decorating the lobby, brainstorming ideas for the hotel, or simply talking over cups of tea. She wanted to know everything about you—your dreams, your passions, your fears. It was disarming, how much she cared.

♡⋅˚₊‧ ୨☀️୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡

One evening, as the two of you sat on the hotel’s rooftop, looking out over the sprawling chaos of Hell, you finally opened up. “I used to have dreams,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Big ones. I wanted to be an artist, to create something that would inspire people. But... it felt like the world was against me. No one believed in me, and eventually, I stopped believing in myself.”

Charlie’s expression softened, her crimson eyes filled with understanding. “That sounds really hard. But you know what? Dreams don’t die just because others can’t see them. They’re still inside you, waiting for you to pick them back up.”

You looked at her, skeptical. “Easy for you to say. You’re a princess. You’ve probably never had people tell you you’re not good enough.”

She laughed, a soft, self-deprecating sound. “Oh, you’d be surprised. My whole life, people have doubted me. They think my dream of rehabilitating sinners is ridiculous, that it’ll never work. But I keep going because I believe it’s worth it. And I believe you’re worth it too.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you. For so long, you’d let the voices of doubt drown out your own. But here was Charlie, in the literal depths of Hell, refusing to give up on her vision. If she could keep fighting for her dreams, maybe you could too.

From that night on, Charlie became your biggest cheerleader. She encouraged you to pick up a pencil again, to let your creativity flow. At first, it was just doodles, small sketches on scraps of paper. But as the days turned into weeks, you began to find your rhythm again. The hotel’s walls soon became adorned with your art, transforming the space into a gallery of hope and beauty. The other residents took notice, and for the first time in a long time, you felt seen.

Whenever doubt crept back in, Charlie was there to chase it away. “Your art is incredible,” she’d say, her enthusiasm unwavering. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. And don’t stop just because it’s hard. The best things in life usually are.”

Her belief in you became a lifeline, pulling you out of the darkness you’d been drowning in. Slowly but surely, you began to believe in yourself again. And in turn, you found ways to support Charlie in her mission. You designed posters and banners for the hotel, turning it into a place that truly felt welcoming. Together, you created something that stood as a beacon of hope in a realm defined by despair.

♡⋅˚₊‧ ୨☀️୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡

One day, as you worked on a mural in the lobby, Charlie approached you, her usual cheerful energy tempered by something more serious. “You know,” she began, “you’re not just helping me with the hotel. You’re inspiring everyone here. Your art, your determination—it’s contagious. You’re making a difference.”

Her words brought tears to your eyes. For so long, you’d felt like your dreams didn’t matter, like you didn’t matter. But here, in the unlikeliest of places, you’d found purpose and belonging. And it was all thanks to Charlie.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice trembling. “For everything. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

She smiled, her eyes shining with warmth. “You’d be right where you are now. Because the strength you needed was always inside you. I just helped you see it.”

In that moment, you realized just how much Charlie had given you. Not just a place to stay, but a reason to keep going. A reminder that even in the darkest of places, there’s still light to be found. And as you looked at her, you made a silent vow to never let that light go out—not in her, and not in yourself.

Hell might have been the last place you expected to find yourself, but it turned out to be the first place where you truly found yourself. And with Charlie by your side, you knew you could face anything. Together, you were unstoppable—two dreamers refusing to let the world, or Hell itself, stand in their way.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! 🍎

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑦-𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠