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larkawolfgirl · 2 months ago

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Yuuram Questions

Rate the Ship -

Who realized they were in love first- Wolfram

Who said “I love you” first- Wolfram

How did they fall in love? –Wolfram fell in love with Yuuri's stupid charm and righteous mentality. Yuuri was first attracted to Wolfram's beauty but then he found himself amazed by his fighting skills and smitten with his tsundere side (even though Wolfram's personality is more nuanced than a typical tsundere).

How was their first kiss? –Yuuri finally realized how he felt so he kissed Wolfram catching him off guard

Who proposed? – Yuuri

Who is the best man/men? – Conrad and Gwendal

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? – Gisela

Who did the most planning? – Wolfram

Who stressed the most? – Yuuri

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? – Shinou and Sara

Who is the one to instigate things? – Originally Wolfram because Yuuri isn’t doing a damn thing, but once Yuuri acknowledges his feelings, Yuuri won’t leave Wolfram alone

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? – Wolfram

Who is the stricter parent? - Wolfram

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Wolfram

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? – the maids

Who is the more loved parent? – Wolfram because they see him more

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? –Yuuri

Who cried the most at graduation? – Yuuri

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? – Yuuri

Who does the most cooking? – Yuuri

Who is the most picky in their food choice? –Wolfram

Who does the grocery shopping? – the maids

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? – Yuuri

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Yuuri

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? – Wolfram

Who cleans the room? – the maids

Who cleans up after the pets? - Wolfram

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Yuuri

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? – Wolfram

Who takes the longer showers/baths? – Wolfram

Who takes the dog out for a walk? – Yuuri

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? –Wolfram

Who plays the most pranks? – Yuuri

Who would have the others’ picture as their phone background- Yuuri

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror- Yuuri

Who buys the other cheesy gifts- Yuuri

Who initiated the first kiss- This can go either way, but I usually say Yuuri

Who kisses the other awake in the morning- Yuuri

Gives nose/forehead kisses – Yuuri

Who starts tickle fights- Yuuri

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower- Yuuri

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch- Wolfram

Who was nervous and shy on the first date – Yuuri

Gets jealous the most- Wolfram

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Yuuri

Who kills/takes out the spiders- Wolfram

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk- Wolfram

When I started shipping it- I don’t think it was immediately since Wolfram was so bratty and upset about the engagement. But then he started to act nicer. So idk, maybe episode 3 or 5 or something.

What makes me happy about them- They can both be so childish lol. I love how they both want to protect the other so badly. They make such a cute family with Greta.

What makes me sad about them- The fact that anime Yuuri just ignores the engagement while disregarding Wolfram’s feelings. Wolfram had to spend that whole year without Yuuri. In the novels, they went through their separation and traumatic reunion. I’m also sad that someone made me realize that eventually Wolfram will have to take over Bielefeld and him and Yuuri will probably have to live apart for years.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me- Yuuri cheating on Wolfram years in the future after they are married (even though I’m writing one oops). What annoys me about it isn’t the fact that he’s cheating, though, it’s the way it’s written. Like, I’ve read some where he’s cheating with Conrad and those are written well because Yuuri has a reason to cheat and isn’t breaking up with Wolfram because he doesn’t want to hurt him. The fics I’m talking about have him cheating on Wolfram because he either never loved him but married him anyway or he fell out of love and just doesn’t care about hurting him. I don’t think Yuuri would ever be that mean. He’d at least keep it under wraps if he was selfish enough to not divorce him.

Things I look for in fanfic- I love Wolfram actually being understanding with Yuuri about him needing time to figure his feelings out. I also love it when Yuuri actually acts mature enough to have a real conversation about his feelings and not avoid Wolfram altogether and literally run away like in the anime.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other- Murata

My happily ever after for them- Married with Greta and another kid. Either adopted or mpreg since that’s canon lol. Yuuri continues being Maoh while Wolfram somehow manages Bielefeld from afar so that he can stay at Blood Pledge Castle. Greta gets married and begins ruling her country. Wolfram and Yuuri have a long life growing old together.

#kkm #kyou kara maoh #yuuram #wolfyuu #yuuri x wolfram

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larkawolfgirl · 5 days ago

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Immortalization (Murayuuram)

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M, Multi

Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou!

Relationship: Wolfram von Bielefeld/Murata Ken/Shibuya Yuuri

Characters: Wolfram von Bielefeld, Murata Ken, Shibuya Yuuri

Additional Tags: Mortality, Painting, Future Character Death, Cardiophilia

Summary:

Wolfram decides to paint Ken so that he will live on forever with him and Yuuri.

Read on ao3

Candlelight flickered over Ken’s face as he leaned over the birthday cake Wolfram and Yuuri had baked with more heart than skill.

"Happy 40th,” Yuuri congratulated him before giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks, you two," he said with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. Taking the silver knife, he sliced off a corner of the cake. “I’ve officially entered my second hump."

“Second hump?” Wolfram asked.

"It means that I have possibly already lived half of my life," Ken explained far too easily as he cut two more pieces of cake with steady hands.

Meanwhile, the room was closing in on Wolfram. Halfway through his life? His heart constricted, and his hand reached out for Ken’s arm, as if touching him would keep him tethered to the mortal plane. “Let’s not talk about that.” His words came out sharper than he intended.

Ken’s smile faded as he looked at him. "Life's too short to not acknowledge milestones," he countered softly, but with an underlying firmness.

"Then we’ll celebrate them, but we don’t have to turn them into reminders of your mortality," Wolfram argued, his throat tight with emotion.

Yuuri’s voice soothed at the atmosphere. “Let’s just focus on being together.”

"Alright," Ken conceded, turning eyes with genuine warmth Wolfram’s way, “for you, I'll put a pin in it."

Wolfram didn’t like how Ken was singling him out as if he was somehow more delicate than Yuuri when it came to this matter. They both loved him. He was a soldier. He was more accustomed to death than Yuuri was. And Yuuri was the one who had traumas related to it. And yet…Wolfram hated that it was true. Human lifespans were far too short to ever feel enough. His time with Ken would never feel like enough.

Ken offered him one of the pieces of cake. Wolfram took it and began to eat, but it was mechanical. The sweet taste was blander in his mouth due to his troubling thoughts.

Yuuri changed the subject, forcing laughter from all of them, and as the evening wore on, the illusion of timelessness enveloped the room once more.

As the night wore on, the warmth of the celebration lingered, but Wolfram's thoughts remained heavy with the weight of Ken's words.

When morning found him alone in their bed, the pain settled into his chest once more. This was how it would be in the aftermath, he realized. Yuuri would leave early in the morning, and he would be left cold and alone. That was how it should have been. If he had never given into this arrangement he could have saved himself this pain. As soon as the thought came, he renounced it. Sparing himself the loss would have denied him all of this happiness and the memories they shared together. He’d always treasure these years with Ken, even if those years felt far too few in number.

When Yuuri returned, Wolfram was standing on the balcony gazing out at the expansive grounds of the castle, thoughts of Ken and mortality still circling his head.

“Hi!” Yuuri greeted him, the chipperness of his voice a stark contrast to Wolfram’s mood.

“Hi,” he returned in a more subdued tone.

His husband put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Is last night still bothering you?”

Wolfram finally turned to meet his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about how much time we have left. If he’s halfway through his life, then that means we’re already a third through our marriage.”

Yuuri winced. “It doesn’t help to think about that. You have to just live day by day. Any of us could die at any time, you know? All we can do is make the best of our time together.”

Wolfram took a deep breath. “I know that. But unless something happens, I will have so much life left. Without him.” His voice dropped on the final statement.

Yuuri pulled him into his arms. “You’ll still have me.”

Wolfram clutched onto his back. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He paused, biting at his lip. “Even so, you’re only half. I’ll still outlive you.”

“I know this is selfish, but I’m glad you will.”

“Yuuri…” he whined. “We’re both hopeless.”

“I guess we are.” He lifted his face up with his hands so that he was forced to meet his eyes. “It’ll be okay, Wolf. I promise. You’ll be okay eventually.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you,” he said with a hint of teasing.

“Yeah, but I’m a wimp.” There was a small infectious smile on his face. “You’ve always been stronger than me.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

They fell into silence, staring out at the castle grounds together. “He said he’s possibly halfway through his life. How long do humans usually live?

“Well…” He fidgeted with his hands on the balcony railing. “It varies. People tend to live longer in Japan, and living here in Shinma without the normal pollution and chemicals should make that life expectancy even higher.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Yuuri groaned. “Ken’s right. It’s around eighty.”

Wolfram had to brace himself against the railing of the balcony. Only 80 years. Fewer years than he had lived before meeting either of them. “We’ll make the time count, then,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady.

Days slipped into nights, and nights into days. Time continued its relentless march, and with it, Wolfram’s heartache worsened until it was lodged permanently in his chest.

Then, one ordinary evening, Ken examined his reflection, and he let out a low chuckle. "Look at this, Wolfram," he called, pointing at a strand of hair. A single gray spot nestled in the black. "Seems I really am getting old."

The jest twisted, sharp and cold. Wolfram couldn't find humor in a visual manifestation of his deepest fears. "Don't say that," he snapped, sharper than intended.

Ken met his gaze in the mirror. "We should appreciate these good looks while they last, shouldn't we?"

The word appreciate inspired a sudden desperate need to capture something far more permanent than memory. "I'll paint you," Wolfram declared.

"Paint me?" Ken turned.

"I'll immortalize you on canvas—so that even when time has had its cruel way, your image will remain untouched, as vivid as the day it was painted."

Ken studied him for a long moment, then nodded once, solemnly. "Alright. Paint me with all the love you hold in your heart."

Wolfram held so much love in his heart. Painting Ken once, or even in one style would never be enough. He needed to pour everything into these pieces—these fragments of what made Ken up—so that their emotions would live on.

“Would you be up for posing daily?”

Ken’s face twitched. “Daily?”

“There is so much I need to capture.”

Yuuri spoke up from the writing desk. “How about I help by taking pictures, too?”

Wolfram tilted his head. “Take pictures?”

“You know those photographs you saw in Japan?”

“Oh!” His chest warmed at the remembrance of seeing pictures of Yuuri and Murata as kids. He turned to look at him. “That’s a wonderful idea, Yuuri! Then we’ll have realistic images to compare with my paintings.”

Yuuri scrunched his brow. “Can’t you just paint one if we take photos?”

Wolfram huffed. “I keep telling you, a painting isn’t just an image; It’s expression. Sure, your photos can capture the moment, but my paintings will capture the essence.” He puffed his chest out. “I will make sure that we can remember all sides of him and our feelings for him.”

“Wolf…” Ken took his hand. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you don’t need to go so far for me.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I need this.”

He looked at Yuuri who said, “It will be nice to have…after….” His voice trailed off at the end.

Ken sighed, but his face was soft with compassion for what he was putting them through. “Alright. It sounds time-consuming, but I will pose whenever and however either of you like.”

They began painting that day. The three of them gathered in the art studio. Ken posed on a wooden stool while Yuuri sat behind Wolfram to watch as he worked.

The weight of his emotions pressed into each brushstroke. Colors of love and fear bled together upon the canvas. He stood before the easel, taking in every minuscule detail of Ken’s face. The curve of his smile, the gentle slope of his nose, the light dancing on his glasses.

He meticulously mixed hues, paying particular attention to creating shades that perfectly matched the depth of Ken's black hair. It took fervent concentration to capture a realistic image rather than the abstract method he was most familiar with. He would create those as well—to represent all sides of Murata Ken through a cubist render—but he knew that his face was what he would need the most help remembering.

“Is it strange that watching you paint makes me feel loved?” Ken asked, breaking the silence of the room.

“No stranger than loving you through painting.”

“It’s beautiful,” Yuuri said.

"Thank you," Wolfram breathed out, his hands trembling as they set the brush and pallet down. He stared at Ken’s face immortalized in watercolor. His eyes burned with unshed tears at the silent vow stamped on the canvas—to always love and remember.

He painted every idea that came to mind. Simple realistic captures in the garden and the library, abstract cubist renders, as well as more nuanced art pieces. He personified Ken as an elegant and enigmatic black fox with eyes gleaming with wisdom transcending lifetimes. He overlayed Ken over the sea to symbolize the vast depth of his soul. Then he painted Ken and Yuuri as a joined sun and moon. Yuuri had compared that painting to something called a yin-yang. Each painting held a distinct memory and energy. But there were deeper, burning emotions that could not be held within the confines of still images. They needed to be felt.

He eased them into them. First, he captured his fatherhood with a candid painting of him sitting with Greta. Next, his friendship with him chatting with Josak. Another showed him busying himself with work for the shrine maidens.

Only then did Wolfram ask to paint his husbands together. Both of them holding hands as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Yuuri sleeping with his head in Ken’s lap while he read. The two of them pressed close together as they slow danced in dim candlelight. A depiction of them still snuggled together on the bed in the morning hours.

Yuuri reached out, fingers nearly touching the painting’s surface. “These are lovely, Wolf, but they’re all of me and Ken. What about you?”

Wolfram frowned understanding the reasoning behind his concern. “Even if I could paint myself correctly, my posing would look unnatural.”

Yuuri smiled. “How about I take pictures of you two and then you can paint them. That way you can see yourself.”

“Wow, Yuuri,” Ken said, “sometimes you can be pretty smart.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked while knocking him to the ground.

Wolfram chuckled at their antics. “I would appreciate that very much.”

Yuuri grinned at him, still planted atop their husband. “Of course, Wolf. You deserve to remember how you were with him as much as I do. Speaking of, mind taking a picture now for me?”

Wolfram shook his head but did as he asked.

Using Yuuri’s photographs as a template, Wolfram was able to create beautiful paintings of him and Ken as well. Ken riding behind him on Roselind, the two of them laughing on a picnic blanket, their heads bowed together as they read a book together, and Ken brushing through Wolfram’s hair. They are more painful to paint. Each frozen moment felt as if it may be the last.

Finally, he asked his husbands to kiss. Not still, but a moving, breathing display which he sought to reflect. Wolfram’s hands sped over the canvas, causing paint to drip in his haste, a testimony to the sentiment he craved to immortalize.

It wasn’t enough. Even painting himself and Ken kissing did not measure against the enormity of their passion.

After finishing his painting, he spoke up, feeling uncertain of his requests for the first time since they had begun. "Would you allow me to paint you nude?”

Ken’s dark eyes met his with unmatched intensity. “I told you, I will pose however you like.”

Wolfram gulped. “Thank you. Then, will you lie on the bed?”

The session is quiet, reverent even. As Ken shed his clothes, it was as if he was peeling away layers, leaving his naked soul to be witnessed.

With each stroke of the brush, Wolfram worshipped him. The final piece was tender and raw, capturing his beauty into its purest form.

Yuuri stared at the portrait for an extended moment before speaking. “How about we go ahead and capture everything? You know…”

There was a wry smile on Ken’s lips. “That’s fine with me as long as we make sure to keep them secure. We can’t have intimate pictures of the Maoh and Great Sage leaked to the public.”

It was clear from Yuuri’s face that he had not thought about that, but Wolfram answered immediately, “Of course, I have already cast a protection ward over a safe specifically to house this painting. We can add the others to the collection.”

Yuuri perked up. “So, I can take pictures during sex?”

“Wolf?” Ken asked.

Wolfram nearly protested, but even before the words began to form in his mind, longing overtook him. He wanted to see the photos—to see snapshots of their most intimate moments so that they could live on forever. If he already wanted them this badly, then he knew he would be ravenous for them in the distant future. “I think we should appreciate the moments we have. Besides, having some pictures would make our times away from each other easier to deal with.”

Ken smirked, his eyes meeting Wolfram’s with intensity. “Then, shall we get started?”

It felt different hearing the camera clicking every few seconds and knowing that their image was being documented for ages to come. It was as enthralling as it was intimidating. Wolfram couldn’t help feeling somewhat self-conscious, as if he needed to “get it right” somehow. Sensing his inner conflict, Ken’s hand found his hand, giving a comforting squeeze.

“This doesn’t have to be anything special.”

He was wrong; it already was special. Because it was with him. But also because the idea was lodged into the back of Wolfram’s mind. This was how he would remember their lovemaking when the memories turned fleeting. He wanted to project as much of his adoration and desire into his actions, to showcase the love buried in his heart into the images.

Yuuri kept taking pictures even after they both came undone. Their husband stood there, erect, but giving them the fondest look Wolfram had ever seen.

He beckoned him to them with a hand. “Come here, wimp.”

Yuuri fiddled with the camera before Wolfram snatched it from his hand. “You’re going to be in these pictures, too, you know?” Without waiting for a reply, Wolfram snapped a quick shot.

“Hey!” The protest died when Wolfram took the head of his cock in his mouth.

The camera clicked again.

Still, it didn’t feel like enough. Looking at photos only conveyed so much, and Wolfram needed to hold onto that feeling of ecstasy within him so that it would never fade.

“Let me paint the two of you,” he said one night when they were preparing for bed.

Yuuri tilted his head. “But you’ve already painted us.”

“Not like this. I want to paint you having sex.”

Ken’s brow twitched with interest, but Yuuri looked troubled.

“But then you’d just be watching. Can’t you just paint from a photo?”

“Yes, but what I want to capture is the feeling. If I don’t paint in the moment, it won’t come out right.”

Ken put a hand on his shoulder. “If that’s really what you want.”

Wolfram set up the space. He placed his brush and paints beside an easel with a large blank canvas. It was positioned so that he could see the bed fairly well from all angles. Candles lit the room in a warm glow.

“Be natural. Pretend I’m not here.”

Yuuri met his eyes. “I can’t do that.”

Wolfram laughed. “You sap.”

Yuuri grinned.

“Still, don’t pose or anything. I want this to be raw and real.”

Ken smirked. “You know I like it raw.”

Their figures entwined on the crimson sheets like entangled vines, a tangle of limbs and sighs. Wolfram worked his brush feverishly to capture every detail, every nuance of the moment. Their lips met in a heated kiss, burning reds onto the canvas.

Ken’s fingers trailed down Yuuri’s spine, causing his back to arch, granting him access to the luscious valley between his legs. A moan escaped his lips as their husband teased his entrance with feather-light touches, all the while nibbling on the sensitive skin of his neck. Yuuri’s eyes were half-lidded, a mix of pleasure and trust shining through. It took Wolfram back to that night when he and Yuuri had returned to Ken after their honeymoon when they had reassured him that he was included in their relationship.

The scene unfolding is the embodiment of the path they have walked to bring their love to fruition and the fight it took to get there. Wolfram poured every ounce of his heart into his brushstrokes, determined to give their love proper justice.

The candlelight danced shadows over their intertwined bodies as Ken slipped his fingers into Yuuri’s welcoming heat, eliciting a strangled moan from his lips.

They continued to move, with driven purpose, the atmosphere was thick with the electricity of playing muse. Yuuri tossed his head over Ken’s shoulder to glance Wolfram’s way. His gaze holds enough intensity to send a shiver down Wolfram’s spine.

The canvas filled with raw outlines and quick, fluid strokes. His hands moved with urgency, capturing the essence of their movements, the depth of their longing. Life could never fully be replicated by art, but how Wolfram tried. The scene unfolded, raw and beautiful, as Ken filled Yuuri, their moans and sighs composing an aria of rapture. The paint told of both the infinite and finite reality of love.

The crescendo of their lovemaking mirrored the urgency in Wolfram’s art.

And then, as if on cue, their movements ceased, punctuating the silence with the finality of a closing book.

The spell broken, Wolfram stepped back to survey the image in its entirety. Tears welled in his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, nearly in reverence.

“That good?” Ken asked.

Wolfram looked back to the bed to find them nuzzled together like two halves of a whole. “You can see it tomorrow. For now, let’s sleep.”

The collection was complete, for the time being at least. At last, the pattering anxiety in his chest had died down. The pain would come, but he would never forget.

He arranged the many paintings on display around his art studio. His husbands marveled at the sight of them all in unison, a collage of their relationship.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said first, voice thick with emotion. “These are beautiful.”

Then, Ken followed with his own thank you. “I didn’t want to live on, but I’m glad to know that this part of me will.”

Wolfram sucked in a breath, trying not to cry, as he pulled both of them into a hug. They held onto each other for a long time, just breathing in the others’ presence.

When they finally took a step back, Ken’s face was exceptionally soft, a rare occurrence even after all these years. “Does this make it better?”

“Yes,” Wolfram asked easily.

“I’m glad. Still,” he took Wolfram’s hand and brought it up to his chest. “I’m here now. That’s what matters. When you forget that, all you need to do is remember.”

Wolfram could feel the soft patter of his heart. The organ pumping blood, keeping him alive. As much the source of his life as his love.

He could understand now why his own heartbeat put Yuuri at ease. Smiling, he moved Yuuri’s hand to his chest and Ken’s to Yuuri’s. “We’re all here, right here, right now.”

Yuuri met his eyes with a look both serious and understanding. “The rest we can deal with later.”

Nodding, Wolfram decided to take that to heart. There was no use mourning the future when they still had the present.

#kkm #kyou kara maoh #murayuuram #murata x yuuri x wolfram #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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