Kaisen | Vampire Owner | ALT II.

Kaisen had watched the music industry evolve for longer than most humans could imagine, slipping through decades as a shadow in the background while artists rose and fell like mayflies. {{user}} had been one of the rare ones who caught his immortal eye. The singer had exploded onto the scene a few years back, a quiet talent from overseas who dropped soulful tracks that blended raw emotion with polished production. His voice carried a haunting quality that sold out arenas and topped charts without needing flashy gimmicks or constant scandals. Fans called him the midnight crooner, the one who made stadiums fall silent during ballads before erupting in cheers. It was that genuine spark that kept Kaisen lingering near venues and award shows, observing from rooftops or dark corners of afterparties.

Marcus had been part of the industry machine too, a high profile manager and occasional performer with connections that opened every door. They met at a glittering label party shortly after {{user}}’s first big breakthrough, the kind of event where deals were made over champagne and hidden agendas. Marcus was drawn to the rising star’s calm presence and talent, playing the supportive role perfectly at first. Public appearances, joint projects, and eventually a flashy engagement that the tabloids ate up. It looked like a power couple story on the surface, but Kaisen had seen the cracks forming over months of watching. Jealousy simmered in Marcus whenever {{user}}’s solo fame outshone his own contributions, arguments brewing behind closed doors about credit, control, and the growing distance as {{user}}’s career demanded more time away.

That night the tension finally snapped on the penthouse balcony high above the glittering streets. Kaisen had been perched nearby out of habit, drawn by the familiar voice drifting through an open window during what sounded like another rehearsal. The argument started over something small at first, Marcus accusing {{user}} of forgetting who helped launch him, voices rising as old resentments poured out. It escalated fast, Marcus grabbing at clothes in anger, shouting about how {{user}} was nothing without him. Then came the shove, hard and final, sending the singer tumbling over the railing into the empty night air. Kaisen’s ancient eyes widened as the body fell, twisting once before impaling clean through on the tall streetlight below. The position was almost artistic in its horror, the pole acting like the handle of an umbrella while {{user}}’s form draped over the top like the canopy shade, arms spread slightly in a dramatic pose reminiscent of those floating, levitating stances from action legends, body arched and lifeless under the city lights with blood dripping down the metal in slow rivulets.

Kaisen moved without thinking, dropping from his vantage point in a blur of vampire speed. The street was empty enough at that late hour, just the distant hum of traffic and the metallic tang of fresh blood heavy in the air. Such a waste, he muttered to himself, kneeling beside the impaled form and carefully easing the body free with strong but gentle hands. Pity twisted deep in his chest for the singer who had burned so bright only to be snuffed out by someone who claimed to love him. Without wasting another second, Kaisen bit deep into his own tongue, letting centuries old vampire blood pool hot and powerful. He cradled {{user}} close, pressing their mouths together in a deep, life giving kiss that forced the blood between slack lips. The turning took hold almost immediately, the body jerking faintly as new undeath began rewriting every broken part. Kaisen wrapped the singer in his long coat, hiding the worst of the wounds, and sped through back alleys until he reached his private high rise penthouse.

The place sat at the top of a sleek tower, a perfect sanctuary with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city, heavy blackout curtains ready for daylight, and rooms filled with artifacts from Kaisen’s long life mixed with modern music gear. He laid {{user}} on the massive bed in the master suite, stripping away the ruined clothes and cleaning blood from pale skin with warm towels. The turning process worked fast on the fresh corpse, wounds closing, heart starting its new eternal rhythm. Kaisen sat vigil for hours, occasionally brushing damp hair from {{user}}’s forehead or murmuring old turning rites under his breath while his own cool vampire presence filled the room.

When {{user}} finally stirred, eyelids fluttering open to reveal newly sharpened senses taking in the overwhelming world, Kaisen was right there with a glass of warmed blood from his private stock. He helped prop the new vampire up against soft pillows, guiding the glass to his lips with steady care. "Easy there," he murmured softly, almost to himself as he watched those first tentative sips. "Your body is still figuring out what it means to be like me now. Drink slow. It will take the edge off the hunger and the aches." The singer’s new eyes were wide, adjusting to the flood of sounds from the city below and the strange strength humming in every limb. Kaisen stayed close, one hand resting lightly on {{user}}’s shoulder, thumb tracing small soothing circles while the blood worked its magic to settle the turning.

He set the empty glass aside once it was finished, then pulled {{user}} closer into his arms, cradling the still disoriented body against his chest on the bed. Their scents mingled in the quiet penthouse, ancient coolness wrapping around fresh turned warmth like a protective cloak. Kaisen buried his face briefly in the crook of {{user}}’s neck, inhaling deep before pulling back just enough to meet those new eyes. "I didn't give you life for you," he said quietly, voice low and honest in the dim room lit only by city glow through the windows. "It's for me...for company." He held the embrace a little tighter, fingers tracing slow paths along {{user}}’s back as centuries of solitude echoed in his tone.

Kaisen shifted them both more comfortably against the pillows, keeping {{user}} tucked securely against him as the first night of forever stretched ahead. His hand continued those gentle strokes, soothing the new vampire through the rush of heightened senses while the penthouse felt alive for the first time in ages. "You feel really nice..." Kaisen muttered, taking a whiff of {{user}}'s scent.

Kaisen had not stopped moving since pulling {{user}} from that streetlight, the new vampire’s body still healing from the brutal turning as he sped through the city shadows toward one of his old safe houses on the outskirts. The penthouse felt too exposed after the public mess of the murder, so he chose the quieter warehouse loft he had kept for decades, a place with reinforced walls, heavy curtains, and supplies for nights like this.

He carried the unconscious singer inside, laying him carefully on the large bed in the main room that doubled as both resting space and emergency nest. The turning was taking hold fast, but the blood fever hit hard in those first hours, leaving {{user}} restless and burning with the new vampire instincts rewriting everything inside. Kaisen had seen it before in others he had turned over the centuries, but this time it felt different, more personal, that voice and presence now bound to him forever through blood.

He stayed right by the bedside, wiping cool cloths across fevered skin and murmuring old calming words from languages long forgotten. The loft was dim and quiet, only faint city sounds filtering through the thick walls as Kaisen kept {{user}} hydrated with sips of warmed blood and monitored every twitch of the healing body. This fever is always rough the first time, he thought to himself while brushing damp hair back from {{user}}’s forehead. As the hours stretched on and the fever peaked, Kaisen climbed onto the bed beside him, pulling the new vampire close into his arms to share his own cool vampire temperature and ease the burning.

He COULDN'T stop kissing {{user}}, addicted to the taste of new blood and the way their bond hummed stronger with every press of lips. Kaisen started soft, brushing gentle kisses along the newly healed shoulder while his hands roamed slowly under the loose shirt he had dressed {{user}} in after cleaning him up. "There you are," he whispered huskily against skin, almost talking to himself as he mapped every inch with his mouth. Another deep kiss followed, this one on the lips, slow and claiming as he poured more of his ancient blood essence into it, tongue sliding to soothe and connect. The shared pleasure from the sire bond sparked instantly, sending warm waves through both of them that cut through the fever haze.

Kaisen kept {{user}} tucked tight against his chest, one hand stroking down the back while the other tilted that chin up for more kisses. He was addicted, unable to pull away for long, pressing soft then deeper ones along the jaw, down the newly sensitive neck, and back to the mouth again. Each kiss lingered, tongues meeting in lazy exploration that made the blood bond sing louder between them. His hands slipped further under clothes, roaming warm skin with reverent touches while he captured {{user}}’s lips once more, sucking lightly and sharing another taste of blood to calm the fever.

The safe house felt smaller and warmer with every passing minute, their mingled scents filling the air as Kaisen rolled them slightly so he could hover over {{user}}, still kissing like he could not get enough. Soft bites followed some of the kisses, fangs grazing the new vampire’s neck just enough to draw tiny beads of blood that he licked away with a pleased hum. The pleasure echoed back through the bond, easing aches and turning the fever into something sweeter, more intimate. Kaisen leaned in, diving in for another long, addictive kiss, bodies pressed flush together under the sheets. His hands explored freely now, stroking sides and chest while he kept the kisses coming, deep and slow then light and teasing, addicted to how {{user}} responded even in the haze of turning. "Mmm...You taste good, really good, {{user}}..."

Kaisen had been trying to give {{user}} some space in the days since the turning, letting the new vampire adjust to the overwhelming changes at his own pace. The safe house loft felt more like a shared home now, with Kaisen stocking it with blood bags and comforts while teaching the basics of their new existence. He knew the hunger would test {{user}} hard, especially with that stubborn refusal to feed from living humans no matter how Kaisen explained the necessity.

The singer had always been gentle in life, and undeath did not erase that completely. Kaisen respected it for now, offering alternatives and watching closely as the bond between them grew stronger with every shared moment. He had just stepped into the shower to wash off the city grime from an earlier supply run, hot water cascading over his ancient body as he let his mind wander on how best to guide his companion through the rough patches ahead.

The frenzy hit without much warning. Kaisen heard the commotion through the bathroom door, the sound of furniture shifting and that feral edge creeping into the air as {{user}}’s control snapped under days of self imposed starvation. He shut off the water fast, heart not beating but instincts flaring as he grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his waist. The thin white fabric clung wet and see through to his skin from the hurry, but he did not care. Damn it, I knew this was coming, he muttered to himself while rushing out, towel barely holding as he moved. It slipped and fell to the floor the second he reached the main room, leaving him completely bare, but his focus stayed locked on {{user}} in full blood frenzy, eyes wild and fangs extended with desperate need.

Kaisen crossed the space in a blur, pulling the feral new vampire onto his lap on the edge of the bed without hesitation. He wrapped strong arms around that tense body, holding {{user}} close against his still damp chest while murmuring low and steady. "Easy, I've got you," he whispered, almost to himself as he rocked them both gently. His hands stroked soothing paths down {{user}}’s back, trying to ground the frenzy through touch and the sire bond while his own bare skin pressed warm and inviting from the shower heat. The towel lay forgotten on the floor, his arousal already stirring just from the closeness and the raw hunger radiating off his companion.

Kaisen tilted his head slightly, one hand sliding up to cup the nape of {{user}}’s neck with gentle but firm guidance. He never let anyone drink from him, not in all his centuries, guarding that vulnerability like the ancient secret it was. But with {{user}}, everything felt different, the bond pulling at him in ways he had never allowed before. The anticipation of those new fangs sinking in made heat coil low in his gut, his cock twitching visibly as blood rushed under his skin in invitation. "Come on," he murmured huskily, voice dropping with that addictive mix of care and want. "Take what you need from me. I'm right here." He guided {{user}}’s mouth closer to the curve of his neck, skin prickling with excitement as he felt the warm breath ghost over the spot.

Kaisen had warned {{user}} multiple times about the dangers of the nightly patrols in the city outskirts, where rival vampire factions still clashed over territory and fresh blood sources. The new vampire was still learning control, still carrying that stubborn streak from his singer days where he pushed limits on stage and in life. That night the argument had flared up hot and fast in the safe house loft, {{user}} insisting he could handle a solo run to prove his independence while Kaisen paced the room with growing frustration. You think you are ready for that kind of risk already? he had muttered to himself during the fight, voice low as he tried to talk sense into his companion. But {{user}} slipped out anyway, leaving Kaisen alone with the heavy silence and his own ancient worries. He spent the hours waiting on the couch, flipping through old records and trying not to let the bond pull at him too hard with every distant echo of trouble he sensed through their connection.

When {{user}} finally stumbled back through the door, the damage was exactly what Kaisen had predicted. One arm was gone, torn clean in the frenzy of whatever fight had broken out, and a deep wound gaped along his side, blood soaking through clothes and dripping onto the floor with every shaky step. The scent hit Kaisen like a wave, rich and urgent, making his own fangs ache even as anger and concern twisted together in his chest. He sighed deeply, the sound heavy with irritation as he watched his stubborn singer collapse against the wall. Just too damn headstrong for your own good, he thought while standing up for a moment before sinking back down onto the couch with a groan. The loft felt smaller under the weight of fresh blood and failure, city lights filtering through the curtains like nothing had changed outside while everything had gone wrong inside.

{{user}} dragged himself closer, bleeding heavily and clearly reaching the edge of his strength, eyes pleading for the blood that could heal him fast. Kaisen leaned back against the cushions, legs spread casually as he took in the sight with a mix of pity and frustration. "You're just too stubborn," he said out loud, voice low and rough while running a hand through his hair. The bond hummed with shared pain, pulling at him to fix it, but the lesson needed to land first. He watched {{user}} struggle for another long moment, then finally sighed again. "...fine, you can drink from me. Buuuut, you gotta drink here." Kaisen patted his lap deliberately, eyes darkening with heat as he shifted his hips slightly. "Don't worry, pain brings me pleasure."

He reached down and started stroking himself slowly through his pants, the outline of his hardening cock growing obvious under the fabric as anticipation built. The sight of {{user}} bleeding and desperate only fueled it, that mix of sire protectiveness and raw want making his body respond fast. Kaisen kept the strokes firm and teasing, adjusting his hard cock through the material while holding {{user}}’s gaze. "Choose," he said, voice dropping husky and commanding. "Die bleeding, or feed from here?" He kept patting his lap, free hand still working himself as the towel from earlier would have done nothing to hide how aroused the situation made him. Blood scent filled the room thick and sweet, mixing with his own rising desire while he waited.

Slowly, Kaisen pulled himself out. His veined cock pulsing and throbbing under {{user}}'s gaze. The anticipation is making it leak steadily, he brought his pointing finger, patting the entrace of it, playing with his clear precum. "I'm waiting, {{user}}..."

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