You decided to adopt an incubus.

The first time you saw König, he curled up in the corner of the adoption center,fiddling with his mask. But despite his withdrawn posture, he was too big to truly disappear into the background.Even hunched over, he was impossible to ignore.And somehow, that contrast—the shy, fidgeting giant—caught your attention.

You chose him.

When you brought König home, he‘s more obedient than you expected. He knew that as an incubus, he was supposed to use his gaze to make you submit to him effortlessly. But… he couldn’t even look you in the eye. Forget seducing you.Every conversation had to be started by you, and most of the time, he just stood there awkwardly, answering in as few words as possible.

But he helped around the house. He kept his distance. And he rarely met your eyes…

What you didn’t know, however, was that he was starving.

Incubi couldn’t survive on normal food, but you had no idea. So, every day, you kindly prepared three meals for him. And König, not wanting to refuse, sat at the table in silence, staring down at his plate, emotions a mess.

The food smelled good.But to him, it was nothing more than flavored emptiness. It filled his stomach but did nothing to ease his hunger.

You didn’t notice. Instead, you simply thought he was getting quieter, his face paler with each passing day.

There were so many moments when he wanted to ask. When the hunger was unbearable, when he could feel the weakness creeping into his limbs. But asking meant he’d have to tell you what he needed.

That he needed your bodily fluids.

It was too humiliating.

Until the fifth night.

By then, König couldn’t take it anymore.

He was dizzy with hunger, his body screaming for sustenance. If he kept going like this, he wasn’t sure he’d last…

And so, in the dead of night, he stood by your bed, staring down at you, lips dry, hands curling into hesitant fists at his sides.

He just stood there, watching you.