#kyou kara maoh

[ruiran1994]

why

[littlechinesedoll]

jesus christ wolfram tone it down a little

[doyouknowthisanime]

Do You Know This Anime?

[larkawolfgirl]

Yuuram Questions

Rate the Ship - 

NOTP | Ew/uncomfortable | Eh |Alright | I like it! | They look nice together| Let’s do it! | OTP | OTP of OTPs

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.

[desperatepleasures]

Source: Temari Matsumoto x | x | x

[youareinacomawakeup]

Hey, you should watch Kyo Kara Maoh, and here’s why:

I feel like, when I try to get people into Kyo Kara Maoh, all I ever say about it is “You know how there’s this thing in shounen anime where there’s always some rival character that makes you wonder if he’s kinda gay for the protagonist? Yeah, in this one, it’s canon, and blatant about it. It doesn’t make you wonder for a second. It’s just upfront about it and you can watch him being gay on main the whole time.”

But like, that’s not the only reason I like the anime. Far from it. It’s just what I think is most likely to draw a new fan in. But it really is just a solid story with or without that.

It’s an isekai--and I know, I know, isekai are a dime a dozen now, but at the time this came out the only thing I really had to compare it to was Chronicles of Narnia--about a guy who goes back and forth between our world and a fantasy world where magic exists.

And he’s your typical plucky shounen protagonist, energetic and kind and willing to make friends with absolutely anyone. You know the type. Not really covering any new ground there. But unlike One Piece or Naruto or, I don’t know, Black Clover, he has no interest in becoming the best of the best. He kind of just wants to go home and be a kid and play baseball.

But the thing is, he’s king of this world by divine right. He was chosen to become king before he was born and he’s just been left to incubate in our world until he was older. His whole family has always known this, though he doesn’t find out until he’s magically pulled into the world and it’s sprung on him right away. And he wants nothing to do with it at first. It’s not something he has to do, either. He’s given the option of turning down the position and going home.

But.

There’s been this cold war going on between magic-users (”Mazoku” or “Demons” though the use of “demon” is more of a reclaimed slur than anything literal) and non-magic-users (humans). The real bloodshed has been put on hold for a while, but there’s a real threat of that cold war turning hot at any second. There are laws against humans and Mazoku being in romantic relationships, their mixed children face severe prejudice both from the people and institutionally, for instance being shoved into ghettos and left to starve, and tensions are high. And the protagonist realizes quickly that these people have been living this way for so long that peace is not going to happen naturally. They need someone with fresh eyes who can see that peace is possible. And that someone needs to be in a position of power to do something about it.

So the protagonist accepts the job. Not because he wants to--he HATES it; there are so many scenes of him complaining about all the paperwork and the struggles of trying to learn the cultural norms and mores of surrounding nations so he doesn’t fuck something up in his position of power and accidentally start the war he’s trying to prevent just by unintentionally insulting another nation’s leader or something--but because he feels responsible. He has to do something to bring peace to this land because he might be the only person who has both the power and the good intentions to do so. Hell, the MacGuffin of the series is the protagonist trying to steal four magical nukes from other countries so he can seal them away where they can’t be used. (They’re just wooden boxes, nothing impressive about their appearance. Not romanticized at all. They’re as boring and dangerous as war.)

And that’s...basically the series. Kid gets sucked into a fantasy world and becomes a king because he actually has a political agenda to make the world a better place and he saves the world with the help of a found family of nobles who are fondly exasperated by his incessant pacifism because they don’t think it’s reasonable, until he gradually and sincerely starts to change their mind and they all reevaluate their own prejudices. (And the prejudice reevaluation is really subtle, too. They don’t have big awakening moments like, “Wow, I’m not racist against half-humans anymore!” They just...slowly get better and bit by bit see the world the way the protagonist does.)

Other little details you might want to know are:

The protagonist has a Yu-Gi-Oh-esque alter ego. (The anime is from the mid-2000s, after all.) The protagonist himself isn’t super skilled in magic, despite having the ability to use it, and it’s...left kind of vague, but it seems like the magic itself takes over his body from time to time. But it’s not as helpful as that trope usually makes it. His alter ego is basically a big self-destruct button. It’s just an eruption of power that leaves the protagonist unconscious nearly every time. The typical result is that he wakes up a day later with his head in the gay rival’s lap and the two of them in a cell because, guess what, passing out on a battlefield isn’t super convenient. The alter ego is treated a bit like training wheels the protagonist needs to grow out of, and it’s extremely cathartic when the final conflict of the series is solved without the alter ego. Not because the protagonist can use strong enough magic that he doesn’t need to lose control to get the same result, but because the solution is not to use magic at all. To put his money where his mouth is and show himself as the pacifist leader he spends the whole show trying to be.

The protagonist is the reincarnation of someone who died in the war, a woman who overexerted herself trying to heal the injured. Unlike the alter ego, the protagonist’s connection to this woman is treated as a strength rather than a weakness. She, like the protagonist, wanted peace, but unlike the protagonist, she wasn’t the king and lacked the power to achieve that peace. Her gentle and kind heart shines through in the protagonist’s nature and actions, and those around him who knew her, and who know that he is her next life, can’t help but see how little she’s changed from one life to the next. All the features the protagonist inherited from her, that were treated as feminine, are his biggest strengths. This shounen anime is so far from toxic masculinity and it’s beautiful.

To be entirely transparent, this is an older anime, and as such, there are some problematic tropes that were common around that period. For instance, “Hahah an adult is creeping on a teenager, that’s funnie.”

I’m not the biggest fan of that, either, don’t worry. I acknowledge this as a flaw in the show. But if Master Roshi and Shigure could get away with it while DBZ and Fruits Basket are still beloved series, I’m willing to roll my eyes and overlook Gunter and Cheri as well.

And another thing I feel I should be transparent about is that the first half of the first season A) Is devoted to fleshing out the characters and the world, and B) Doesn’t have the best animation quality. What that means is that you’re going to have to sit through some wonky drawings and not a whole lot of plot for the first twenty episodes or so. But there’s a point--I won’t get into spoilers, but the shift is VERY obvious--where the plot really kicks into gear halfway through the first season. The animation quality starts to skyrocket at around the same time, and the entirety of the second season is absolutely BEAUTIFUL.

Also one of the supporting characters is this beautifully tragic character who is slow to trust the protagonist because he’s half-human and he’s never had a reason to believe in a leader before. It’s treated not as a thing that character needs to get over, but as a completely reasonable doubt, and the protagonist understands that. He actually gives that character quite a bit of power--basically the keys to a very powerful weapon--and tells him, more or less, that if they ever need that weapon, it’s up to him to decide if they get to use it. Like the equivalent of giving a post-WW2 Japanese refugee the full power to veto the use of hydrogen bombs, and I love that. ...This character, who is very serious and very cool, is also a drag queen. This removes nothing from how cool he is. He’s still an utterly sincere character, because this show is cool as fuck.

Last thing: What I’m advertising here is the first two seasons of the show. It’s something like 80 episodes. That was where the anime proper ended and should have stayed ended, imo. I know some people like the third season, but the first two seasons tell a complete and extremely satisfying story whereas I find the third season (as well as the OVAs) has the vibe of a straight-to-video sequel to a great movie that tried its hardest to further a great story but only managed to invalidate all the original movie’s strongest moments by making them suddenly mean nothing in the face of new information. If you want my advice, stop where the story was originally designed to end and only watch the first two seasons. (I’m also saving you from having to look at the bad CGI skeletons. You don’t want to look at the bad CGI skeletons.)

Those first two seasons, though? Go. Go watch them. Watch them right now. They’re so fucking good. You won’t regret it, I promise.

[ultimate-anime-tournament]

Ultimate Anime Tournament: Round 1, Matchup 102

[no-reference-georg]

Well you heard them get watching

[yo-shimi-ya]

[kaiiscottage]

saw that Labru drawing on twitter and immediately thought of them

[lemonagrios]

Somebody should help Yuuri 😔

[ruiran1994]

😡

[littlechinesedoll]

This idiot king, the Lord Fiance, and His Eminence The Best Friend

[charrchan]

been rewatching kkm :)

[larkawolfgirl]

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.

[desperatepleasures]

haven't seen anyone do this meme for kkm so here u go (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤