Supernatural Stories and Imagines

Lucifer!Daughter 1/ Like Father, like Daughter

Imagine: Being Lucifer's daughter and him actually trying to be somewhat of a real father, but you're too rebellious to stay home. (A/N: We all know how well that worked out irl, but let's ignore canon and take it back more than a few seasons.)

You thought it should have been much cooler to be the daughter of Satan. Of course, he didn't like that title. He also didn't like being called Lucifer. He preferred Dad. At least, just from you, anyway. He probably would kill anybody else that called him that. 

You had been out of school for a while and it was a miracle you graduated in the first place. Well, maybe not so much, when any teacher that spoke ill of you was no longer working. That should have been awesome, but frankly, it seemed like your schools were cursed. You tried making friends, but your natural inclination to manipulate while being quick to anger didn't sit well in your favor. 

Now that you were out in the real world, you were eager to explore. You were young with what should be a very long life ahead of you and you were ready to make as many exciting memories as possible. 

That would have been much easier if your dad would be willing to let you leave. Far too often, you were telling him that you were an adult, capable of making your own decisions, and holding your own. He would always cross with knowing that any day somebody could try to hurt you. How, you may ask, does he know? Because's someone like that. 

"I'm your daughter, remember? I'm perfectly capable of incinerating anyone that even gets close," you were saying. 

You sighed, glancing in the compact mirror. You had gotten dressed up for a night out and your dad was this close to ruining it. It had been the two of you for a long time. 

Your mother died in childbirth, so you had no siblings. You lived a lonely, sheltered life. Whenever your dad was thrown into prison or some other dangerous event, demons were left to take care of you. They weren't the friendliest of creatures, keeping their babysitting duties to making sure you would do absolutely nothing except stay in the house. They didn't even like you using knives to make food. 

During your teenage years, you quickly became a rebellious teenager. You knew from stories that your dad actually hadn't entered your life until around age seven, but your memories before that were fuzzy. You had found ways to sneak around the demons. Only once did you attempt to leave while your dad was actually at the house. You didn't make that mistake again. 

Lucifer looked like he had just gotten home from work -whatever that was- but he had been home for hours. His white button-down seemed exaggerated in contrast to his slacks and loafers. You knew he craved to run hell, though that position was currently occupied, and you avoided conversation about murder, most of the time. 

"Yes, well..." He huffed. 

You made a good point and he knew it. You continued to learn weak points to use as loopholes in any disagreement. You were raised by the most famous fallen angel, after all. It had its advantages when you were willing to use it. You only had a fight to the death a few times. You tried to avoid those. People often underestimated your strength. 

Surprisingly, those that had attempted to kill you weren't hunters. You had spent over two decades with these stories and fantasies of cruel humans, mostly men, that wanted to destroy you simply for existing. You decided to begin joking they were sexist, pretending because it was due to the fact you were a woman and not the daughter of an angel. You wondered if it would have been as big a deal if that angel wasn't also the devil. 

"I simply don't see the point in going out," he finally said. 

"It's a nice night, I want to enjoy the weather," you claimed. 

His light eyes squinted at you. He wasn't buying it. You had learned to lie from him, after all, so it was more disappointing than shocking that he could see right through you. Lucifer rolled his eyes, not amused with your games. 

"What, and you don't want to enjoy the company of your old man?" He placed a hand over his heart, faking offense. 

You sighed. That was his best card and he knew it. He must have been running out of excuses for you to stay. 

"Dad, we see each other plenty. Do you really have nothing better to do than sit around playing board games or watching lame tv with me?"

He frowned. "If that's what will keep you here." 

"Then how about we do that Sunday? You're in hiding at the moment, anyway, so it's not like you've got plans. I'll see you tomorrow," you said. 

Standing, you gathered your belongings for the evening into your handbag. You began to tap your foot impatiently when Lucifer crossed over to block the exit. You crossed your arms and raised your eyebrows expectantly. He did the same. Petty. 

"Dad." You gritted your teeth.

"Y/N." He mocked. 

What a child. You didn't have time for this. You had places to be, people to see... 

You met his eyes, not quite glaring. He wasn't intimidating - as a father or a devil. He was a middle-aged man wearing khakis! 

"Dad, you need to move. I'm going out for the night and I will be back later. I'm going to be fine," you said. 

A light ruckus of a fallen object caused your dad to glance towards his office, where some demons were meant to be online searching. At the brief distraction and lowered guard, you made a quick rush for the door. You were fast - but not faster than your old man. His eyes were on you in an instant and hand wrapped around the doorknob, prohibiting your desperate exit. His eyes narrowed with a hint of disappointment, mostly surprise.

"I have morons to deal with. Keep your phone on, call if you run into trouble. Be back by midnight, please," he grumbled. With a light pat on the shoulder, he allowed you to finally leave. 

Father of the year, that guy.