Here's the expanded version, keeping all characters, plot points, and tone intact — I've only added small connective moments and a bit more atmosphere:
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It has been 50 years since the disappearance of the crowned prince of hell, and with it, the stability of the kingdoms.
Lucifer, current king and ruler of hell, has locked himself away inside his workshop working on... important projects to cope with the loss of his son.
As for Lilith, she has taken residence within the white palace... she has been mourning and dreaming of the day her son would return to them.
The princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar, is currently running a hotel meant to rehabilitate sinners alongside her lover, Shakra.
She had always wanted to start a business of her own, and alongside her other dream of helping and redeeming sinners, she decided it would be a good idea to combine the two passions.
Unfortunately... the sinners didn't care much for her plans and have simply written her off.
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**(Present Day — Happy Hotel)**
Within the hotel, Princess Charlie sat alone waiting for any sinner to finally visit and redeem themselves. She sat in the brightly lit reception area, twiddling her thumbs as she waited. The hotel was quiet — it was always quiet — and the cheerful décor she had worked so hard on felt almost mocking in the silence.
After her brother's disappearance, and her parents' subsequent depression, Charlie had been... sad, to say the least. It was a particular kind of sadness — the kind that didn't announce itself loudly, but settled in the background of everything like a low and constant hum.
But this didn't stop her from chasing her dreams. All she needed to do was prove that redemption was possible. One sinner. That was all it would take to start.
As she continued to sit alone inside the hotel, Shakra entered carrying a basket of food. The door swung open with a familiar creak, and the warm smell of something rich and spiced drifted in ahead of her.
"My love! I have returned and brought a bountiful feast for us!" Shakra announced excitedly, hoisting the basket as though presenting a trophy.
"Hey babe! Welcome back!" Charlie replied, standing to greet her with a tired but genuine smile.
"How is my little marshmallow doing?" Shakra said, moving over to Charlie and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
"I'm fine, babe. You don't have to always ask me that." Charlie replied, and grabbed the basket from her. "Why don't we put these in the fridge before they go bad." Charlie said before moving towards the kitchen.
"You know... Charlie." Shakra said, grabbing her hand.
Charlie paused and turned back, tilting her head. "What is it?"
Shakra opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"I think... we should fix the doors. They're making an awfully loud squeaking sound." Shakra replied.
A beat passed.
"Oh. I guess we can get someone to fix that." Charlie replied before continuing to walk to the kitchen to store the food.
And as Charlie walked off, Shakra stood rooted to the spot, one hand pressed to her chest, feeling her heart beating like a hummingbird. She exhaled slowly through her nose.
It had been 50 years since they'd gotten together, and Shakra — despite being the open and brave warrior she was — couldn't bring herself to ask Charlie to marry her. She had faced demons, monsters, and things that didn't have names. And yet this was where she faltered.
Why was that? Did she feel inadequate for her? Or did she simply have cold feet?
Whatever the case, Charlie to this day remained oblivious, and simply saw Shakra as her longtime girlfriend. Which, Shakra supposed, she still was. For now.
---
Back in the kitchen, Charlie was currently storing away many, many exotic meats and vegetables. They filled most of the basket and spilled across the counter before she managed to sort through them all.
They mostly consisted of delicacies from the pale kingdom. Charlie hadn't enjoyed looking at them at first — some of them looked back — but over time she had learned to appreciate them. They were quite delicious, once you got past the presentation.
After sorting the fridge, she headed back towards the reception hall and continued her long wait for sinners to finally visit. She straightened a few pamphlets on the front desk on her way past. Adjusted a lamp. Sat down again.
Reaching the reception, Shakra had already left, leaving the princess all alone.
"She must be training again," Charlie said to herself before taking a seat and... waiting.
The clock on the wall ticked. The lights hummed softly. Outside, the dim and perpetual glow of hell's sky shifted in slow, amber waves. Charlie rested her chin in her hand and watched the door.
---
As the hours passed and evening settled in, Charlie decided it was time to retire for the night. The desk could wait. The pamphlets would still be there tomorrow. So would the silence.
But as she began locking up and heading toward the bedroom to sleep with her girlfriend, a sudden knock caught her attention.
She stopped.
For a moment she was certain she'd imagined it. She stood very still, listening.
Then it came again.
A rush of excitement filled the princess of hell all at once. She moved quickly, dusting herself off and making rapid checks to ensure she was presentable — straightening her jacket, smoothing her hair, standing tall.
After taking a deep breath, Charlie finally opened the door.
"Welcome to the Happy Hotel!" Charlie said with a gigantic smile on her face.
...
But when no one replied, the smile faltered. She began looking around — left, then right — and when she looked down, her eyes immediately widened.
A bloodied and bruised woman lay on the doorstep, barely conscious, her breathing shallow and ragged.
"Holy shit! Are you okay, miss!?" Charlie exclaimed and quickly knelt down beside her.
As Charlie knelt, the woman stirred. Her hand shot out and grabbed Charlie by the shoulder with a grip that was surprisingly firm for someone in her state. Her eyes found Charlie's and held them.
"Please... help..." The woman whispered, before falling limp and passing out.
Before she could hit the ground, Charlie caught her and gently gathered her into her arms. The woman was lighter than she looked. Whatever had happened to her had taken a great deal out of her.
And as the woman lay limp and unconscious, panic began to quickly build in Charlie's chest — and with it, her composure began to crack.
"Shakra!" Charlie yelled out into the hotel.
And almost immediately Shakra arrived... not without running straight through one of the hotel walls, leaving a rather visible silhouette behind her. Plaster dust drifted gently to the floor.
"My love! What is wrong!" Shakra questioned, weapons already drawn and eyes scanning for a threat.
Charlie didn't speak — she simply lifted the woman higher to show Shakra.
The tension in Shakra's shoulders dropped. Understanding the situation, she sheathed her weapons in one smooth motion and stepped forward, gently taking the wounded woman from Charlie's arms with practiced care.
"I'll take care of her, love. Please find someone who can heal her." Shakra said, her voice calm and steady. Then she turned and carried the woman quickly toward one of the empty rooms, disappearing down the hall.
Once Shakra left, Charlie stood alone in the doorway, the night air of hell drifting in around her. She stood speechless and stunned, staring at the space where the woman had been. After a few seconds she snapped out of it.
She ran outside.
Now in the open air, Charlie began concentrating, eyes closed, steadying herself. After a few seconds, red draconic wings burst from her back in a rush of heat and light. She rolled her shoulders once, then launched herself into the sky.
Below her the hotel shrank quickly. Ahead, the pale kingdom glowed faintly on the horizon — distant but reachable. Some of the best healers in all of hell could be found there, and right now that was all that mattered.
"Gotta hurry..." Charlie told herself quietly as she pushed forward, flying as fast as her wings would carry her.