Cheating the Devil (Prologue) -- James Patrick March
Summary: James March loves his daughter more than death itself. The mother of his child, doesn’t.
Warnings: birth (gross), implied drug addiction
Pairing: James Patrick March x daughter!reader
Word Count: 1,800+
A/N: Here it is, sluts!! My next pride and joy. This is just the prologue, and chapter one won’t be from a Third Person POV (unless you guys totally dig this), so this is a little short. I hope you guys like it, though, and lemme know what you think!
“Fuck, James! I’m going to kill you when this thing is finally out of me!” (Y/M/N) screamed, tightly gripping onto the hand of the man beside her.
“I’m already dead, darling, so, unfortunately, that shall not be,” James March sighed but offered the woman on the table a reassuring squeeze regardless. “And this is not a thing, she is our daughter.”
The mother growled, “Your daughter. I want nothing to do with this!” Another painful screamed ripped through the air as (Y/M/N) pushed harder, willing the baby inside of her to just get out. On the woman’s other side, Hazel Evers stood, swiftly patting the soon-to-be mother’s forehead with a cold rag, tutting softly.
“Just one more push, doll, and you’ll be done,” another voice gently spoke. Liz Taylor kneeled between the screaming woman’s legs, her acrylic-less nails carefully maneuvering the woman’s thighs further apart. Liz was by no means a doctor, or certified to be delivering a baby, but she was the most trusted in the hotel and therefore, declared fit for the job.
James held onto the woman’s hand a little bit tighter, eyes flashing from hers to Liz in anticipation. (Y/M/N) gave one final push, screaming loudly as she did, until a small wail broke out across the room. The woman moaned in instant relief, her head lolling to the side as her eyes began falling shut with exhaustion.
“It’s a girl. Would you like to hold-” Liz paused her announcement once she looked up, noticing the mother already passed out on the bed.
Ms. Evers quickly checked her pulse before nodding to herself silently and beginning to do away with the soiled sheets. “Oh yes, such a mess. Messiest of messes,” she murmured to herself, ignoring the screams of the baby March.
James slowly walked over to Liz, his hands already held out for his baby girl. “Give her to me.” Liz obeyed, not even bothering to wipe away the mucus, wax, or blood that covered the child. “She’s… beautiful.” The second she was placed in his awaiting arms, the screams of the child ceased as if they had never been happening to begin with.
Liz side-eyed the man, looking over at the child herself. She was shocked at the baby’s sudden silence but said nothing about it, figuring it had to be a ‘James thing’. Shrugging her shoulders, Liz began to wipe off her hands. “What will you name her?”
James paused, “(Y/N). (Y/F/N) (Y/Middle/N) March,” he smiled, before allowing Liz to finally wipe the baby down with a gentle rag.
“Shall the mother be okay with that?” Ms. Evers pipped up, delicately tucking in the covers (Y/M/N) was laid beneath.
“She does not have a choice in the matter. She’s made it very obvious she wishes nothing of the child,” James huffed, pulling the baby away from Liz -once again- as soon as she had been cleaned off. It was clear to Liz and Ms. Evers that James had no intention of letting his daughter go anytime soon. He brought (Y/N) closer to his face, the occasional tear falling from her bright, (e/c) eyes. James placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, smiling down at her lovingly. “She will be mine to love and cherish, nobody else’s.”
“I’m gonna getcha! I’m gonna getcha!” The voice of a man echoed down one of the many hallways of The Cortez, while he chased a small child. Donovan laughed loudly as the six-year-old he was chasing giggled maniacally, turning corners every-which-way. She was nearly as fast as him, her half-ghostly nature giving her the headstart she’d need against his vampiric speed.
“No you won’t!” she squealed back, looking over her shoulder to see just how far away Donovan was. However, as she turned another corner, she smacked into somebody’s leg, her forceful speed sending them both flying to the ground.
“Watch it.” (Y/N) looked up to see a woman on the ground, rubbing her sore head with a scowl.
“‘M sorry, mommy,” (Y/N) murmured, looking down at the patterned carpet in shame. Suddenly, before (Y/M/N) could scold the child further, hands were under (Y/N)’s arms and yanking her up from the ground. She looked up as she was balanced on Donovan’s hip, the older man wearing a glare.
“You know the rules, (Y/M/N). Steer clear of the halls when I’m on babysitting duty,” Donovan scowled, before smirking at the child on his hip. “(Y/N) and I like to cause chaos.”
“Yeah, chaos!” (Y/N) giggled, copying Donovan’s tone of voice and causing him to laugh.
“This is an adult establishment, children shouldn’t be permitted.” Donovan looked up at the new voice, his scowl returning as the child in his arms fell silent.
“Pi-... Go away, Sally. This is her hotel, not yours,” Donovan said, stuttering slightly at the near-slip of a curse word.
Sally laughed bitterly, “You can’t even say piss around the thing.” A cigarette was held between her lips as she helped (Y/M/N) to her feet, shaking her head in annoyance. “We all know the only reason you put up with the kid is because ‘a The Countess.”
“Yup. The second that brat turns eighteen, this all goes to her. And Elizabeth wants it,” (Y/M/N) slurred, tripping over her feet despite her still stature.
Donovan shouted, “Don’t call her that! And, that’s not true. (Y/N) is fun to be around.” (Y/N) flinched slightly at Donovan’s loud voice, so he smiled softly at her in reassurance. Her (e/c) eyes were wide with worry as she listened to the conversationed, knowing better than to interrupt. “The Countess and I both enjoy her.”
“She’s not even your daughter,” (Y/M/N) suddenly snarled, jolting forward with her hand outstretched. She was wearing a cropped tank top, and various track marks were visible on her arm. Donovan took an immediate step back, turning his body so that (Y/M/N) couldn’t grab ahold of (Y/N).
“No, but she is mine, so I advise you to step away.”
“Daddy!” Instantly, (Y/N) was squirming in Donovan’s arms, trying to be let down. The vampire obeyed, lowering the girl to the ground with a pout. The (h/c) took off, running towards the awaiting arms of her father.
“Mm, hello, my little killer,” James smiled, catching his daughter in his arms and hoisting her into the air. She giggled wildly, hands immediately reaching up to mess with his perfectly styled hair. James placed her on his shoulder where she clung tight, and she rested her cheek atop his head.
(Y/M/N) glared at the interaction, raising an eyebrow. “You really love her, don’t you?”
James looked taken back and offended by the question, staring at the woman in shock. “More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. More than my killings, more than my hotel, more than The Countess. I would die a thousand times over for my daughter,” he snarled, gripping the child’s waist in a protective manner.
(Y/M/N) fell silent at his declaration, licking her bubble-gum-pink lips slowly. Donovan and Sally stood to the side, watching the stand-off carefully- this happened at least once a day. “Alright.” Her simple words shocked everyone and even (Y/N) raised her tiny brows. Her mother was a fighter, which is what had caught James’ attention in the first place. She never left an argument unfought, so it was surprising to see her walk away from James and the child so easily.
“I’ll take over for the rest of the evening. Thank you for the assistance,” James spoke, giving Donovan a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking away, (Y/N) still clutching tightly to his hair.
(Y/N) was asleep in her overly-large bed, with a stuffed animal clutched tightly in her arms when a hand viciously shook her awake. The small girl flinched, her eyes blearily blinking open. “Mommy? What’s going on?” she whimpered, rubbing small fists into her eyes to try and wipe away the sleep.
“We’re leaving,” her mother said, hastily uncovering the child from her bedsheets, before pulling her into her arms. (Y/M/N) grunted at the weight, not accustomed to carrying a child around.
“Is daddy coming?” (Y/N) grumbled, pushing lightly against her mother’s shoulders, while continuing to clutch her stuffed animal tightly.
(Y/M/N) grunted, adjusting the child, “No. It’s a mommy-daughter adventure.”
“I want daddy to come!” (Y/N) whined, slowly waking up into a fit of hysteria.
“He isn’t coming, and that’s final. Now, be quiet!” (Y/M/N) hissed, tightly grabbing onto her daughter’s wrist. The child whimpered in pain, but fell silent, choosing better than to disobey.
The mother quickly left her daughter’s hotel room after tossing a blanket over her, scurrying down the vacant hallway. It was well past one in the morning so there wouldn’t be any unsuspecting guests to run into it- but the tenants of the hotel were a different story. (Y/M/N) needed to get out of there fast and undetected. She wore a grey, stained jacket with the hood flipped over her head, hiding her messy locks from sight and blue jeans, with a blanket wrapped around (Y/N) to keep from further detection. As she entered the elevator at the end of the hall, pressing the ground-floor button, she could practically feel her heartbeat in her throat. If she wasn’t careful, and she got caught, she would be killed on sight and would never have her chance at freedom. Thankfully, for her, James March was having his monthly dinner with The Countess. Meaning, she only had to look out for Donovan, Liz, and Ms. Evers. In her arms, (Y/N) shook, biting the top of her stuffed animals head to drown out her sobs. The child didn’t understand why she was being forced to leave, and all she wanted was her father.
Once the elevator dinged its arrival, (Y/M/N) snuck out quickly, checking the front desk. To her relief, Iris was fast asleep, her cheek pressed against the registry. (Y/M/N) took her chance and bolted, sneaker-clad feet racing up the lobby stairs and out of the front doors. The second the crisp L.A air hit her face, she screamed joyously, startling the child in her arms.
“This is for the best. For both of us,” she spoke quickly, beginning to run down the confusing streets of Los Angeles. It was dark and it was cold, but (Y/M/N) was hell-bent on getting (Y/N) to the church a couple miles away, no matter how badly the child shivered and whimpered. Nobody would think to look there for her, and she would be out of (Y/M/N)’s hair. The child would be put in an orphanage or a foster home, and (Y/M/N) wouldn’t have to worry about being a mother anymore or the guilt she felt for not loving her own daughter. It would all be over.
All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @teageowen @mads---world @alex--awesome--22 @scarletraine @hxdesworld @frozenhuntress67 @samanthasmileys @simonsaysyasss
Cheating the Devil Taglist (OPEN): @featherpool-852 @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx @agb-random @x-i-a-t @rainbowxmisa @daydreamin1220 @madhatterweasley @kissfromthewind