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#michael b. jordan

Short: Erik vs. Newborn

Warnings: Fluffy 🥺 and language, brief mention of death and childbirth


A/N: I don’t plan on making a second part

This was a quick, off the top of my head short so I hope you like it 🥰


Masterlist


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Erik grew up in a non traditional household. He jumped from foster home to foster home and never really made friends. From the suburbs to the projects, Erik had a horrible childhood. Finding his dad dead in his apartment really messed him up mentally. Erik swore that if he ever had kids, he would be a better dad. Living somewhere safe and doing whatever it takes to make sure his kid(s) didn’t go without.

Fast forward to the present. Erik Stevens and his girlfriend of three years were expecting a baby girl in the summer. Both Erik and his girlfriend got the nursery together in their shared three bedroom high rise condo, painting it in hues of grey and light pink. The theme was simple. Erik didn’t believe in all the clutter and fuss over the nursery. He didn’t want to overstimulate his daughter. He played classical music for her on his Beats pill speaker…even sliding in some Tupac and read her a bedtime story every night. He spoke to her through his girlfriends belly and made sure to rub cocoa butter on his girlfriends belly hoping his baby girl would get used to the smell since he planned on using it on her.

“Babe! Stop talking to her so she’ll go to sleep! She’s been kicking me since you got home and my belly is sore now” his girlfriend whined.

“I’m sorry baby. Imani is just happy cause she knows I’m going to read her a story” Erik climbed into bed and grabbed a book from his nightstand. Goodnight Moon.

After reading the whole book, he noticed his girlfriend was knocked out. He kissed her and closed the book.

“Goodnight Imani. Daddy loves you already” he kissed his girls belly then fell asleep.


3 months later: Due Date


Imani Nalah Stevens (Swahili) was born at 1300 hours on a Tuesday in June. It was both the worst and best day of his life. There were so many emotions surrounding that day that he was unsure of how to feel.

Fast forward to three weeks later. Imani was now three weeks old. Still tiny, fragile, soft and innocent. She smelled like baby and Erik couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He watched her sleeping every night, afraid that she would disappear if he closed his eyes for even just a second.

“Hey babygirl. You ready to take a shower?” Erik asked Imani in a baby voice. He picked her up out of her 4moms mamaRoo swing, gently, and laid her on his bed.

“Let’s get you undressed so we can clean yo stinky neck” he kissed her forehead. Unsnapping and pulling her grey onesie over her tiny head full of black hair, pulling off her tiny newborn sized diaper, Imani was now exposed to the cold air and almost immediately peed everywhere.

“What the fuck!?” Erik ran his hands through his locs and sighed before laughing. “It’s all good. Just don’t shit everywhere” he picked her up and carried her to the shower with him. Holding her tightly against his big keloid scarred chest, he climbed into the steamy shower. Imani started screaming and squirming around in his big arms. Erik struggled to keep his grip on the wiggly baby. Afraid he would drop her, he got out the tub and wrapped her in her fluffy white baby sized towel. As he exited the bathroom, he nearly slipped on all the water he managed to drip all over the floor.

“This shit is hard” he sighed. He laid Imani in the middle of the bed while he went to find his iPad to google search how to give a newborn a bath. “A sponge bath? Aight that seems easy enough” he grabbed a baby wash cloth, Chagrin Valley Milk & Honey Baby Soap, a bowl of warm waster and an extra towel to wash her on. Walking back to the bedroom, Erik noticed it smelled off. He got closer to Imani and seen her squirming. He dropped everything on the bed and dropped to his knees in frustration. Imani managed to take a shit all over his white sheets and her white towel.

After successfully giving her a sponge bath, rubbing a thin layer of cocoa butter on her already silky skin, and changing her into her pajamas, Erik fed her a bottle and rocked her to sleep. He carefully picked her up and laid her on the couch next to him. He pulled his Apple MacBook out and got started with his research, sliding on his gold rimmed eyeglasses and popping open a Dos Equis beer with his black leather journal and bullet point ink pen in hand.

  • Black single fathers support group
  • Black dads with daughters support group


His research wasn’t a total waste of time. He ended finding a few Facebook groups for single black fathers. He joined and looked through the threads, questions, suggestions. He actually gained enough courage to write a post of his own looking for advice.

Anyone else lose their partner during childbirth? Does it get easier? How do I deal with the grief while raising my daughter?

While scrolling through another group he joined, he got a notification. Clicking on the red 1, he seen someone commented on his post.

“It takes a while but it does get easier. Having family support and support of other dads definitely helps. I’m in Oakland, where are you?”

“I’m also in Oakland”

“I’m a single father to twin girls. 3 months old. It’s a struggle everyday but we manage”

“Damn. I’d love to pick your brain. I struggled to give my daughter a bath. Damn near dropped her in the tub. How do women make this look so fucking easy?”

“Lol, Let’s meet up and talk. I’m down”

“Cool”


Two days later, Erik and Imani met up with Sean from the Facebook group. Sean had two three month old daughters. Maya and Malia.

“Wussup bruh” Erik dapped him up.

“What’s good wit ya”

“……I don’t even want to think how difficult it’ll be to date again. Am I supposed to date again? Just doesn’t seem right. Me and my wife never had this conversation because we didn’t expect this…” Sean said as he rocked Maya in his arms.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to think about her? I want to move on so I can stop feeling so fucking sad all the time” Erik looked down at Imani who was in her stroller just looking around with her big grey eyes.

“Everybody deals with grief differently. I can’t tell you what’s bad but do what’s best for you and your daughter. Do you have support from your family or her family?”

“Nah” and Erik left it at that.

“Hm. Well I’m sorry to hear that. I think it’s important for black men to have positive influences from other black men. Being able to talk, support one another, encourage one another, especially being fathers, we have little ones looking up to us for direction. We have to be the leader and protect them. We have to be better than our parents were. I enjoyed being able to share my experiences with you. If you ever want to meet up again, chill, grab a drink cause god knows I be needing a fucking drink after the shit I deal with on the daily basis, let me know. There’s a group of us who go out and drink while three of the wives watch the kids”

“Shit I’m down. Thanks for hearing me out bruh. I actually feel a lot better. I thought I’d have to do this parenting shit on my own but it’s nice to know there’s other men out there who’s been through it and open to helping out lost brothers like me” Erik dapped him up and both men went their separate ways after exchanging phone numbers.

That night, Erik put Imani in her swing and sat it in the bathroom while he took a shower. Every time he would disappear from her view, she would start making snorting noises with her nose like a pig. He would peek his head out and say peekaboo and each time she would jump with a surprised look on her face. Erik thought it was hilarious.

“Aight mamas, it’s time for bed. Daddy is tired as hell” he laid up against the headboard and placed Imani on his chest. He pulled the comforter up over the both of them and he cut the light off. Imani wasn’t having that. She started squirming and kicking and crying.

“What I do!?” Erik cut the light back on and looked down at Imani who looked like her feelings were hurt. Face all red and eyes all watery. Erik picked her up and held her tightly against his chest as he walked her around the condo rocking her.

“Shh. Shh. Shh. It’s okay mamas” he kept trying to sooth her but it didn’t work. If anything, it made her jump each time she heard his deep raspy voice through his chest. Even when he tried to whisper to her she still jumped. Eyes all big like she was shocked.

Nothing worked. He tried feeding her. Changing her diaper. Removing a layer of clothes to cool her down but nothing worked. He laid back in bed with her on his bare chest.

“Oh shit! Duh!” He reached over to his nightstand and grabbed Goodnight moon. He turned on some Tupac to play softly in the background and dimmed the lights real low.

“…..goodnight Imani. I love you” he kissed her sleeping forehead and carefully swaddled her so he wouldn’t wake her.


@btitannaaa @dangerous-history

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T/W: Blood…lots of blood, use of the N-word, slavery themes, lynching, death, cursing, threats of death, themes of the occult, violence, revenge, abuse towards children and women…

A/N: It’s crazy how this quarantine actually brought my writing bug back! I actually wrote so much I have to split this chapter so in conclusion, yes…there will be a part 3!

If you need a refresher of where we are in the previous chapters here & here

The new cast additions are here!

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Delphine entered the back door, still fuming from her argument with Cyrille. “The nerve of that man, if you could even call him that!” she spoke to herself. She was about to head into her room until a voice called out for her. “Delphine? Delphine, is that you? Could you come see me please?” Delphine made her way over to the parlor where the slave owner’s wife Josephine Dupreé was sitting on the couch, a slim framed woman with long, flowing bosom length black hair in stark comparison to her pale skin and rouge lip. “Come sit with me.” she patted her slender hand on the seat adjacent to her. Josephine was the exact opposite of Delphine, she always held a bright smile on her face. She seemed kind to all she walked past her, even the slaves thought so outside of the home. But Delphine and the other house slaves knew better. Josephine Dupreé was a vile, vicious woman. Under the veil of her Debutantism, Josephine has verbally, mentally and spiritually abused all the slaves in the home; especially Delphine.

As a child, Josephine would personally whip Delphine for any infraction even if it wasn’t her fault. Delphine used to be close friends with her daughter Rose, but Josephine removed them from each other and slapped Delphine across the face one time they horse played with each other. Now she wants to act like this was a social call? Delphine cautiously approached the aging woman and sat down beside her. “How are you doing dear?” “I’m fine.” “Well I wanted to speak to you about something important.” She placed her hand on top of Delphine’s. Delphine had instant traumatic flashbacks of the abuse she suffered and instantly became uneasy. “I wanted you to be one of the first inhabitants here to know that… I am currently with child.” “Well congratulations ma’am, I’m sure he or she would make a fabulous addition to the family.” Delphine faintly smiled. “I know this child will and as you also know, we only have so much space in the home for all of our children to live here comfortably. You do understand what I am saying to you, correct?”

“I’m not really sure how all this pertains to me Madame Dupreé.” “Well my husband Jacques, God bless him has been more than gracious with you being here despite your poor household management and child rearing skills.” “I am sure I have done more than my fair share of–” “No, no this is the part where you listen child. Now, when this child comes, you will be placed back out onto the fields and removed from the servants quarters.” “M-My apologies madam, but I don’t think that’s right. I’m sure your husband would reconsid–” “My husband already agreed to the arrangement and we’re moving out your effects as well. Can’t have a field nigger tracking dirt and debris into our home, now can we?” “No ma’am, but where will I stay?” “In one of the nearby shacks, I’m sure one of your kind would let you stay with them. Besides, my daughter Charlotte always liked your room. It would be just perfect for her to reside in.” Delphine arose from her seat not speaking a word, she normally would protest Josephine at every turn until it became futile but she knew that she must spend more time in learning how to take over the plantation once Allix & Rayan awoke at nightfall.

“Oh, one more thing Delphine?” Delphine slowly turned around and smiled at Josephine. “Yes madam?” “I haven’t heard from your brother all day today. Do you know where he might be?” “No, not at all.” Delphine cleared her mind to see if Josephine knew anything about what transpired earlier that day. “Look at her, filthy mulatto is lying through her rotten teeth! I should’ve taken her and her brother and drowned them when I had the chance.” “Is that all you needed from me?” Delphine added. “My son also hasn’t returned from looking into the deaths of those men out in the woods this morning, have you seen him?” “I’ve heard about that and that such a travesty and no, I haven’t seen him either. I hope whoever done this is brought to justice.” “You’re a whore just like your filthy nigger mother, walking around here like you’re better than everyone. If your father hadn’t sold her off, I would’ve killed her too. He wanted to spare her husband, but I guess him trying to run away with y’all sealed his fate.” Delphine ceased prying through her mind and waited for her next command. “That will be all Delphine, thank you.” “You have a great evening madame.” “Same to you.” 

Delphine could feel Josephine’s eyes practically burning through her skull as she walked back to her room. Once Delphine closed her door, she began planning her scale of attack, knowing the quickest routes within the house and where everyone sleeps. She remembers the weapon’s shed where Rayan used to work close to by the stables, she knew she would have to clear that out first and get them to the other slaves without detection. The only way that’s even feasible is if she reveals that she is a vampire, knowing that she would put herself at great risk; she knew that liberation was more important than the consequences of exposing her secret. She went under her mattress and pulled out a box that contained an outfit she had made a few months ago. A pair of Burgundy long-leg trousers with black suspenders and a long sleeved off white cavalier shirt, this would be considered her outfit for when the war began. She knew that no one in the family should be spared, so that no one would know of what was to take place here. Eradication of the Dupreé legacy from history was all she truly desired.

Underneath the clothing were a matching pair of Flintlock pistols Rayan made a year ago for her while the slave owners were away given that their hands on the plantation were negligent to say the least. Their lax nature gave him more than enough time to create weapons and bullets off the Dupreé records. He wanted to spill their blood as much as she did, the only thing they needed was time… and now their time will be fruitful once Allix and Rayan awake as Vampire. As nightfall approached, she took off her work dress, put on her new clothes and placed her pistols in her deep pockets to conceal them. She stared into the mirror as she pulled her black, finely coiled hair and tied it into a mid ponytail. 

She revealed her fangs as she marveled at her new attire. Then she was startled by a loud, rapid banging at her door. “Just a moment please!” Delphine rapidly retracted her fangs & put on her old clothes on top of her new ones, grabbed the straight razor she hid under her pillow hiding it under her sleeve and opened the door a crack to see it was Camille crying. “Camille?! Camille are you looking for a lashing?! What are you doing here?!” “It’s Cyrille & daddy! Th–Th–They gon kill them!” “Who?!” “Massa! They found his son’s clothes in our house and claimed that it was my daddy and my brother who killed Jack & those other men in the woods. Massa and his men took em and now they called everybody out to the back to hang them!”

Delphine eyes widened as she remained speechless. “THEY DIDN’T DO IT AND YOU NEED TO HELP THEM!” Camille demanded Delphine. “What am I to do?!” “You have abilities I may not understand, but they could be of good use right now! My family will not be ruined because of you, now COME ON!” Camille ran out through the kitchen and Delphine was taken aback, but soon being careful not to discharge her weapons. When she caught up with Camille she saw the glow of the torches that revealed that all the slaves had gathered around the back of the plantation. As the young women both pushed through the crowd to the front, Camille quickly ran to her mother’s arms who was already sobbing and inconsolable. A tall, medium built white man with a full mustache approached on the balcony between the twin stairs. He had black hair with silver streaks on the sides and a black and bronze embroidered suit with matching trousers & a gold vest decorated with floral patterns. Delphine has never seen such an ominous sight since her mother’s husband was killed, then the stone faced man cleared his throat and began to speak.

“What seems to be going on here is that we have murderers on my property. Earlier this morning my only son Jackson and a few of my plantation hands discovered a few bodies not too far from this here location, the tracks from that scene lead straight to the Beaulieu‘s home. Then when my son went over there to investigate what was going on, he never came back home. So I took it upon myself to see what happened to him and everybody said he was last seen at the Beaulieu’s.” Delphine started to slip behind the other slaves in attendance. “So I thoroughly looked into the matter and I found my son’s bloody clothes underneath one of their beds!” The crowd gasped in shock and murmured amongst each other. “This family has a history of having their kin attempt to run away from our home, neglecting their duties & disrespecting our family. And for their defiance of our generosity, the suspected culprit is still on the loose.” The enslaved began to murmur amongst themselves as Slave master Dupreé looked amongst the crowd. “Bring them out here!” The doors behind him suddenly burst open with both Cyrille and Desmond bruised and bloody from the beatings they’ve endured at the hands of Master Dupreé’s plantation hands. The look of fear in their eyes as they saw the nooses brought a few of the other slaves to tears at their helplessness.

At this point Maudette was inconsolable and sobbing as she gazed upon her husband and only son mistreated so badly. Camille couldn’t bring herself to even glance at their present condition.

“Now, we’ll try this again. Where is your daughter Allix Beaulieu?” “Massa, we don’t know where she is. She hasn’t been home all day.” Desmond shook his head frantically. “We haven’t seen her, honest!” Cyrille added. “It’s interesting you would say that, cause several of the others said they saw her in your home. And with Rayan no doubt. So now I have a missing son, dead bodies on my property & the suspected culprit somehow was home/wasn’t home? I don’t buy it.” Slave master Dupreé stared into Desmond’s eyes. “Put his head through the noose.” “NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Maudette screams holding her youngest child tighter.

Delphine was snuck around the back of the house trying to get to the weapons shed to get the artillery before they strike. She remained in the shadows to remain unseen, as she tried to peer out of the corner her arm was grabbed by one of Massa’s plantation hands. “Whoa whoa there lil house girl, where you think you going? The soirée is back that way.” Delphine struggled to get free. “Let go of me!” she grunted. “Hey, you’re Dupreé’s mulatto bastard aren’t ya? Almost didn’t recognize you in the dark, then again you darkies all look alike.” The man’s breath reeked of cheap ale and rotting tobacco between his teeth. “You know, I never knew what made Jean like y’all so much.” He chuckled in her ear as he groped her breast. “Maybe I should fuck you like he fucked your whore of a momma.” Delphine let the razor slide down her freed sleeve and spat in his face. He tried to grab her again but she quickly turned around and slit his throat open with the sharp blade in one clean motion. 

She watched the blood pour out of the man’s body like a fountain, wishing she could feed, but she had a more important task to handle. She took off her dress and revealed her new outfit below and took off running. She finally found the weapons shed and when she opened the enclosure she saw it was completely empty. “No, no, no! Where are they?!” she whispered in frustration. “You thought you was gonna get to the weapons first?” Delphine turned around to see her brother behind her with a shotgun in his hand. “You miss me twin?”  he revealed his newly formed fangs to her. Delphine took out one of her pistols and smirked. “Not a single Frenchmen on this estate will survive beyond tonight.” She exposed her fangs, then they heard a “NOOOOOOOOOO!” from Maudette and began to run back around to help save Desmond & Cyrille.

“If you lie to me again, he will die tonight. Spare your husband’s life and tell me where Allix is. WHERE IS SHE?!!!???!!” He screamed his demand with a rope in his hand. Desmond tried to keep his balance on the railing as he was barely able to keep his balance on. “I will give you lot till the count of three then he dies. “MASSA PLEASE RECONSIDER!” “One.” “WE DON’T KNOW WHERE SHE IS!” “Two.” “PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!” “Three.” He released the rope and Desmond went over the edge and was hung by his neck. Maudette screamed in agony as she saw her husband’s legs swinging for his life until he was gone. “PAPAAAAAAAAAAA!” Camille cried out in anguish as she saw her father’s lifeless body dangle in front of her. The crowd gasped in horror at the ghastly sight, everyone at that moment felt completely helpless. “The son is next.” Master Dupreé continued. Cyrille began screaming trying to fight off the men trying to force his head through the noose as he tried to escape his hand restraints. He fought as hard as he could then he heard a shot that barely missed his head. The men and him stopped moving and he looked at Master Dupreé. “Put your head through the noose boy!” He pointed his pistol directly at Cyrille’s head. “I won’t repeat myself a second time.” Cyrille tried to catch his breath as hot tears entangled with his blood from his assault earlier streamed down his face. The whole plantation was silent with the exception of Maudette who was still sobbing with her youngest child in her arms. 

The men put the noose around Cyrille’s neck and tightened it. Cyrille eyed Master Dupreé as if he was trying to stare down his soul. Master Dupreé looked right back at him. “I’m sorry it had to come to th-” Cyrille spat in Master Dupreé’s face and furrowed his brow not speaking a word as he huffed angrily. Master Dupreé wiped off the thick saliva from his right cheek and chuckled. “I going to love seeing your nigger body hang. Throw him over!” He addressed his henchmen as they struggled with Cyrille to carry out his sentence. “You and your whole family will die tonight, mark my words! Your family’s blood shall paint these damn walls!” Cyrille grunted as he struggled with the noose tight around his neck. The henchmen threw him over the railing and when he began to choke on the rope, he felt a strong gust of wind brush past him. 

The rope of him and his father was cut and the bodies drop to the floor, he quickly got up and saw the slaves gasping and staring upward in horror he quickly turned around and looked up to see Jacques Dupreé being hung by the neck over the balcony, his two henchmen murdered within seconds with their blood was viciously splattered across the walls behind where they once stood. It appeared like someone’s hand was around Master Dupreé’s neck, Cyrille looked up higher for a better look and saw it was Allix. She was covered with dirt from head to toe with a mischievous look in her eyes which were cat-like in an amber color with her fangs exposed. “I would kill you right where you stand, but I made a promise to a friend.” she replied as she dropped him from the ledge causing him to land on his ankles which were now broken upon contact with the cobblestone floor below. He began to crawl away in agony from the cobblestone to the grass.

She then looked down to see her frightened brother and the lifeless body of her father and quickly ran downstairs when Cyrille looked at his newly transformed sister, his eyes radiated a mixture of sadness, rage and relief. Allix reached out to touch her brother’s face and he reluctantly pulled away from her. “My God Allix, what have you become?” He raggedly breathed. Allix furrowed her brow and then faced the frightened crowd. “Enslaved people of Dupreé Plantation, I am Allix Beaulieu. I offer you a chance to be free of Master Dupreé or being under any European man’s rule! Right now, Rayan & Delphine are raiding the armory. Tonight, we take back this land and our lives. We shall be slaves no more.” “What makes you think you can set us free? Cause you broke Massa‘s foot’s off?!” One slave interjected. “You must think we’re foolish!” Another added. “You killed a couple of his men and think you can give us freedom?!” “Why should we even listen to you anyway, you’re the reason why your daddy is dead!”

The Revolt continues…

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*After winning his first fight*

Donnie: We got one, Rock! We got one! Hey, what are we doing after this?

Rocky: Let’s go for it. Let’s tear the city down.

Me: Aight, they’re gonna get drunk!

*Next scene*

Rocky: *lounging on the couch*

Donnie: *asleep on couch*

Bianca: *asleep on couch*

Coffee Table: *two pints and a bucket of dreyer’s ice cream completely empty with three bowls and spoons*

Me: Honestly, same. #mood

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