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perry-the-platypus-f1cs · 2 days ago

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Bleed for the family A Dadler and Graveson Vampire Au oneshot

Summary:

The only problem with being a vampire is that immortality gets really boring after the first few centuries. Watching humans fight over the same petty reasons is nothing short of entertaining, well, at least to Russell Adler. But there was something that stirred in his immortal heart when he saw young men and women being shipped off to their deaths because of a petty disagreement between government officials who wouldn’t live to see the end of the conflict. But as Adler scouted out the carnage and destruction of yet another senseless human debacle, it seemed that the universe was cruel enough to leave a single young blonde-haired and blue-eyed Marine alive. Or Vampire Russel Adler had lived far too long, and after finding a young and injured marine called Philip Graves, he decided that he needed an immortal companion, a thrall of sorts, to keep him company in his desolate manor.

Content warning! Blood and gore

Watching mortals tear each other apart was entertaining; the gore, violence, and decay become laughable when you’ve lived as long as Adler has. The human sensitivity to such things quickly faded after his 300th year of existence, but still something in his cold dead heart stirred with an emotion he could not name as he walked past the strewn bodies of mortals that couldn’t have been older than 25.

Adler waltzed through the destroyed building of a country whose name he didn't bother to learn; mortals always changed the name of their countries every few hundred years, so there was no real point.

Adler came to a stop in front of a dilapidated building that was miraculously still standing despite the front door and several internal parts of its structure being blown to bits. Adler stepped past the broken threshold, his black trench coat swirling behind him.

Mortal fashion was never really a problem for Adler; he kept a decent-sized wardrobe full of a few timeless clothing items that he had garnered over the years. Tunics, coats, and pants made up the majority of his wardrobe; after all, his clothing style was quite timeless, if he did say so himself.

The interior of the building mirrored the exterior almost perfectly, with rocky debris scattered across the floor, crumpled bodies leaning against walls, blood smeared across the flaky wallpaper, and macabre artwork.

Adler mostly wandered these battlefields to find food and survivors of the previous battle. The humans that would find and retrieve the bodies would believe that his prey was just another casualty of battle, not bothering to inspect the two puncture wounds that were spotted on the bodies neck, wrist, or shoulder.

So Adler had fallen into the routine of waltzing his way through the carnage and destruction to find food. After all, it was easier to do this than to wander the streets trying to tempt his prey towards a dark alley just so that he could feast hastily.

No, no, Adler liked to savour his meals as a mortal would savour fine dining. The intricate taste of human blood had millions of different variables that impacted the taste.

As Adler continued to scout the house, now moving towards the lounge, his senses tingled in the back of his mind; his ears zoned in on a sound coming from the left-hand side of the lounge. Someone was breathing quite heavily; the beautiful aroma of blood seeped into Adler's nostrils like a sweet-smelling essence.

Adler’s hearing heightened as he heard the familiar sounds of a radio crackling, ��Ranger 0-2 to base, how copy?” A young voice practically screamed into the radio before waiting for a reply impatiently. When the radio gave no answer, the young human groaned in frustration before a painful hiss sounded from the room as well as some shuffling.

Adler took a step forward towards the slightly ajar door, his deep red eyes peeking through the crack to see a young, blonde-haired man holding his bleeding cheek, the rich blood flowing from his cheek down his face, splattering onto his camouflage uniform.

‘Such a waste,’ Adler thought to himself, watching as the boy tried again and again, clicking the buttons on his radio before letting out an enraged yell as all his attempts at contact were left with radio silence.

The man—the boy—really kept on letting out pained gasps and groans as he shuffled in his position, keeping his weight off his right leg, leaning against a couch stuffed with bullet holes, the plush white cushioning spilling out.

The feeling stirred in Adler's gut again. He hadn't felt it many times before, and it had been so many years that Adler didn't have a name for it, but it was unsettling.

Adler pushed the door open with one hand, the other comfortably placed in his trench coat pocket. At his sudden appearance, the young man jolted, hissing painfully at the movement but still shakily levelling a small military-issued pistol at Adler's head.

“Who…who are you!” The marine demanded Blue eyes racked over Adler's body, looking for weapons, and Adler let his hands fall to his side before raising them complacently, still stepping towards the injured soldier.

“Do you want to live?” Adler's question was blunt, his tone as emotionless as ever. The soldier's eyes widened before his eyebrows drew together, confused, the hand holding the gun shaking slightly.

“What…what?” The soldier exclaimed, and from this distance Adler could see that the soldier's eyes were blue, not the blue of the ocean but a light baby blue, the kind you can only find with ice and snow, but there was nothing cold in the soldier's eyes, only bright, burning fear.

“Do. you. want to. live?” Adler says slowly, hoping that this human could comprehend the concept that he could live past his current predicament. The soldier only looked more confused. And it was starting to irritate Adler. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

“Your injuries might be minor, but they prevent you from standing, let alone walking.” Adler points out the soldier's twisted leg that had started to bruise; Adler continued speaking. “You are in no position to defend yourself if your enemies find you, so I will ask you once more, do you want to live?” Adler questions, tilting his head at the mortal. He didn't know why he was offering to turn the mortal, but something felt…right about this decision.

The soldier blinked up at him before looking down at the quiet radio he had on his lap, his hand gripping the pistol still shaking. The soldier looked back up at Adler and lowered his gun, nodding, “Yeah…yeah, I want to live.” The soldier's words were uneven, his voice cracking halfway through him speaking.

Adler approached The soldier knelt down next to the injured mortal, his eyes tearing as wounds spread across the boy’s body. He could feel his fangs aching, ready to release his venom into the mortal’s bloodstream, but Adler stopped.

“What is your name?” he asked, his red eyes locking with the mortal's blue eyes. The human stuttered before his name slipped from his lips, “Philip. My name's Philip Graves, sir.” Adler nodded at the soldier's answer, his lips pursing together as he readied himself. “Well, Phillip, I'm sorry if this hurts.” Adler says simply the feeling is stirring in his undead heart again, but he pushes it down like an incessant mosquito.

He watched as Phillip's forehead creased in confusion again before his face twisted into shock as Adler lunged at him, latching his fangs into Phillip's shoulder, feeling the tendons in his gums pulse, and his venom was pushed into the fresh wound.

Adler could feel Phillip thrashing in pain, punching and kicking as the venom pumped through his veins. Adler felt Phillips's thrashing subside, his body going limp. Adler lays Philip down on the floor; if the venom truly turned Philip into a fledgling, the wounds would start healing.

Adler watches as Phillips' bruises slowly fade, but the deep gash in his cheek scars over. Adler had never turned anyone before, so it seemed to be working?

Adler picked up Phillip's motionless body in his arms. Philip barely weighed more than a bag of grapes.

The journey to the manor was a quick event; travel via smoke was always the fastest method of travel for vampires; the only problem this time was the added weight that Adler had to carry.

Speaking of which, Phillip lay sleeping in the bed that lay only a few feet away from Adler, who was now gazing out the window, waiting for Phillip to awaken and the predictable shock that the young man would exhibit along with the lengthy explanation that Adler would have to go through, and by the sound of Phillip's breath hitching before continuing softly but more laboured, the explanation would come much sooner than Adler would like.

“Do not pretend to be asleep.” Adler says unimpressed, turning to see Phillip crack open his eyes before sighing and sitting, rubbing his now red eyes.

Phillip let out a shaky breath. “What the fuck?” he whispers quietly, looking down at his hands, his black veins extremely visible through his now pale skin.

Adler continued to approach before sitting down in an armchair close to the bed, pressing his glasses back onto his face before they slipped off.

“I suggest you relax; your body has been through quite a lot in the past couple of hours.” Adler explains looking at Phillip, assessing, and trying to see if anything was wrong with his new fledgling.

“You…what the fuck happened to me?” Phillip demands panic edging at his voice as he stares at his hands, his gaze flicking between Adler and his hands.

A low grumble rises from Phillips's stomach, making the fledgling blush slightly, as he closes his mouth and winces as he did so, opening his mouth once again, the pad of his finger pressing against his growing fangs.

Adler watches as a slideshow of emotions passes through Phillip's face. Fear, surprise, confusion, and dread all mixing together. Adler stood from the armchair, walking over to a vanity placed close by.

Phillup watched Adler's movements suspiciously as Adler took out a ceramic bowl, filling it with a liquid that was sealed in a large pitcher; a sweet, thick, syrupy scent wafted into Phillips's nose, his senses hazing over for a moment, replaced by an insatiable hunger that clawed at the cavities of his stomach.

The hunger was growing by the second, clouding his senses so much that he didn't realise that Adler had approached once again, holding out the bowl to Phillip, whose eyes cleared from the red haze, zeroing in on the deep red liquid swirling around in the bowl, emitting the sweet aroma that made Phillip’s mouth water.

“Drink.” The short command of Adler flew through one ear and out the other, but Phillip could feel himself subconsciously obeying his now pale hands reaching out to hold the ceramic bowl that Adler pushed into his hands caringly. The cool surface of the ceramic brushed against phillips warm hands as he raised the bowl to his lips taking a tentative taste of thebowls contents.

A symphony of taste danced on his tongue as he gulped the liquid down; it was

Rich, sweet, and tangy, and it made Phillip’s heart leap at the exquisite taste after every demanding gulp he took until the bowl was empty.

Phillip breathed heavily, savouring the taste on his tongue, before he raised his head towards Adler, thankful that the hunger gnawing in his stomach was gone. “What was that?” he asks curiously, his tongue flicking out to clean the residue left around his lips.

“Blood.” Adler's simple, nonchalant answer made Phillip's heart jump at the realisation.

He had just been drinking blood. His mind raced with questions: Where did this man get it? How? Why? Why did it taste so good? But the weirdest thing was that Phillip couldn’t feel it in himself to feel disgusted at himself.

“It's because you're a vampire.” Adler responds to the unspoken question as if he had plucked the question from Phillips's mind as if he had heard—

“That's because I can hear your thoughts, that is. It is because I am your sire.” Adler's nonchalant decree made Phillip pause in his thoughts for a moment, his hands bunching together the plush sheets underneath him.

“You're my what!?” he exclaims, nearly jumping to his feet, but a wave of dizziness almost makes him lose his footing. Adler was at his side in an instant, helping Phillip lean against the bed. “Do not push yourself so hard. The transformation took a toll on your body. It will take some time for you to adjust…” Adler's words were careful, as if he was expecting Phillips' reaction.

“Transformation? Adjust to what?” Phillip questions his mind flicking with confusion and his thoughts moving thousands of miles per second. Phillip could hear his heartbeat blasting in his ears, every thud and every thump. He felt vibrating through his skull until he felt a rough, calloused hand clamp down on his shoulder. ‘Enough.’

A calm voice broke through his thoughts, but it wasn't spoken aloud; it was in his head. Phillip raised his eyes up from his lap, his eyes meeting with Adler’s; he didn't know when he started crying. Tears fell down his cheeks, landing on his lap.

“You need more rest. Sleep,” Adler commanded, and Phillip felt his eyes grow heavy at Adler's words, lulling him into a dreamless sleep. Adler laid Phillip ABC down into the bed, tucking the sheets up to his shoulders and brushing away a stray tear from Phillip's cheek.

Adler stood, taking the bowl that rested on the nightstand back over to the vanity before taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes, sighing, “Gods, what am I doing?” He whispered to himself, looking at Phillips's sleeping body, the feeling surging in his heart again.

He turned and exited out of the door, leaving his young fledgling to rest and recover; Adler would wait however long it took for Phillip to wake up and accept that he was no longer human; Adler would teach Phillip, guide him, and cherish him the way a father would cherish a son.

Adler stood on one of the many balconies that extended outwards from the mansion, a cigar held between his fingers as he exhaled the smoke out into the bright night.

He would do the best he could to be the sire that Phillip needed; Adler’s own sire was a cruel and calculated man; Adler had killed him just months into being a fledgling; he would not care for Phillip out of fear that he may fall to the same fate his own sire met, but he would care for Phillip because of the deep scar etched into his cheek given to him by his long-dead sire; Adler would never make Phillip go through what he had to go through.

Notes:

Hope you all enjoyed this oneshot! please tell me if you want to see more from this series. I hope you all have a wonderful day/night!

#phillip graves #russell adler #call of duty #cod au #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #dadler and graveson #dadler

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