Holy Grail War Meme

[lostinlaundry]

The HOLY GRAIL WAR Meme

Seven Masters, magi of the present day. Seven Servants, heroes of days past.
One Holy Grail, granting whomever claims it a wish. Only one team of Master and Servant may claim it.
Who will it be?
For those unfamiliar with Fate/Stay Night or Fate/Zero, you can find a better explanation of the Holy Grail War here. (Note: The Holy Grail War in Fate/EXTRA functions in a dramatically different way, and one not followed for purposes of this meme.)
Instructions
1. Comment with your character. In the subject line, put that character's name, canon, and which role (Master, Servant, or either) you would like them to fulfill. Add other preferences if you would like. (NOTE: If your character can fill the role of Servant, I suggest you state which class(es) -- Saber, Lancer, Archer, Rider, Caster, Assassin, or Berserker -- they fall into.)
2. Reply to others' comments. Pick your character's role (and the other character's if they list "Either" as their preference), then use the RNG to pick a scenario that fits the two characters' roles.
3. Enjoy! Though there might be triggers, depending on how the prompts are interpreted.


TWO MASTERS


1. Battle. Who says that Servants get to have all the fun? After all, most Masters try to kill each other, too. Whatever the circumstances, the two of you are locked in a fight. Neither of you are willing to use your Command Spells just yet, so no Servants here. Just two magi duking it out.

2. Alliance. There's a bigger threat out there. Either one Servant is exceptionally powerful, or the situation has changed and the participants need to take action aginst it. One way or another, you're teamed up with one of your rivals for the Holy Grail. How long will this last before you try to stab each other in the back? Or, will something more develop?

3. Protection. Uh-oh! One of you has lost your Servant! Unfortunately, there's no way you'd get to the church safely on your own, so the other one will help you get there! Or maybe you don't trust the priest presiding over the Holy Grail War and are giving shelter to them yourself? Given their track record, no one would blame you.

4. Death. One or both of you lay dying. It might have been by the other's hand, or by someone else's entirely. How will you spend your last moments in the presence of one of your rivals?

5. You, Too? Surprise! You may have been friends before, but you've just discovered that you're both Masters! How will you handle this revelation?

6. Wild Card. Roll again, pick one of the previous options, or make one up!


MASTER AND SERVANT


1. Are You My Master? The summoning is complete. Whether intentional or not, catalyst or not, a magus has summoned a Servant. What kind of meeting was it? Was everything totally under control, or did a hitch occur? Or maybe it happened in the middle of a life-or-death situation!

2. Identity. Either the Servant has flat out told the Master their identity, or they unleashed their Noble Phantasm. Either way, the cat is out of the bag. How will the Master react, now that they know their Servant's name and legend? Will anything change between the two?

3. Battle Aftermath. A battle has just ended. Who participated? Are either of you hurt? Did the Master have to use a Command Spell? Any number of things could have happened here.

4. Discord. Uh-oh. It looks like the Master and the Servant don't get along. Here come the arguments! Don't do something stupid, like waste a Command Spell over a triviality...

5. Love. And then, there's the opposite. Sometimes Masters and Servants fall in love with each other. How will this affect things?

6. Wild Card. Roll again, pick one of the previous options, or make one up!


TWO SERVANTS


1. Battle. This is what usually happens when two Servants meet -- they duke it out. This probably says enough as it is.

2. Alliance. There's a bigger threat out there. Either one Servant is exceptionally powerful, or the situation has changed and the participants need to take action aginst it. One way or another, you're teamed up with one of your rivals for the Holy Grail. How long will this last before you try to stab each other in the back? Or, will something more develop?

3. The Grail Dialogues. Maybe you're not interested in fighting just yet. Maybe you just want to sit down and talk with the other Servant. Find out what they want, what makes them tick. Get some wine while you're at it -- nothing like good wine to go with good talk!

4. Death. One or both of you lay dying...again. It might have been by the other's hand, or by someone else's entirely. How will you spend your last moments in this War in the presence of one of your rivals?

5. Identity. Congratulations, you've just learned each other's identities! Will this change the situation, or will you press onward?

6. Wild Card. Roll again, pick one of the previous options, or make one up!

Comments

[carnalizes]

Nah. What's all that space for if you're not in it?

[the narrowness of the bed is far from an issue as far as the serpent is concerned. why add distance between them when cilius can use him as a back rest as he does now? the serpent's fingers idly (possessively) stroke his human's hip, very much pleased he continues to be relied on.]

Told Sarry to share I'd be out in town for drinks and shopping. Had to prepare a nice surprise for when you re-emerged from your little cave, hmm? And there's no need to bother the staff without your permission when they must pay attention in case of emergencies.

[why, yes, he expects the humans to think that a restless and worried bel cerise walked and slipped out of the estate without notice at the dead of night. hell, he's already established that he can walk from one end to the other without breaking a sweat, and it's not so out of place for a suitor to go the extra mile for a gift basket, is it.]

[unmessianic]

Your pick-up lines are truly terrible.

[ Ever critical, because that sounds like a pathetic attempt to fawn at him. His body, on the other hand, seems to relax on his a little after his retort. Hmph. Treacherous limbs. His eyelids lower with those hip strokes, like a very placated (and semi-feral) cat. ]

Did anyone see you leave?

[ His eyes narrow in case he forgot that he has to use the door out, and Sevastien checks that often. He's expected to as his butler. He doesn't want his staff to discover their master is... consorting with demons. The very idea is absurd to speak aloud and seems the most accurate description of this arrangement.

He's unwilling to acknowledge it for now. ]

Hand me another bottle.

[carnalizes]

But it's an honest question?

[no. but yes. and also no. the serpent hasn't considered that other bed his since they began sleeping together (literally). while he can only, perhaps, hope to make the move official now that cilius has done... hmph. that project in the basement, that's obviously not going to happen any time soon.]

Bel Cerise, talented makeup artist, has picked up a few things from Sari's stuntwork and climbed down the window in the dead of night.

[really. and he's tested it too before in a moment of boredom and broad daylight - the climbing down, not playing stunt double, with the excuse that he's gone rappelling a handful of times. the lord of the manor's raunchy guest, clearly, had also wanted to show off.

(please don't evict him from the bed, cilius, all this holding's just getting to the good part --!)

the second bottle is handed over with little issue, his other arm shifting to wrap around his human's waist and resume stroking duties. can't have the semi-feral, feisty cat in his embrace hiss in annoyance at the lack of rubs, now can he?]

[unmessianic]

It was a rhetorical question. You didn't expect me to answer it, did you?

[ Idiot, he finishes mentally. He's too tired to argue while he settles in his arms. He protests and wants to push him away, but this is too comforting to his chagrin, and he has no real energy to resist him. Maybe he's still basking in his triumph. That must be what has softened him. "Parenthood." Or the equivalent. ]

You did what?

[ He lift his lids to eyeball the Serpent. He has not heard of his erratic behavior. His personnel has been too polite to preserve his ridiculous antics not to concern him. His scowl intensifies like the frost radiating from his half-lidden gaze. Tch.

He wrenches the bottle from Assassin's grasp to speedily unfasten the tap and start gulping down more water. He'll ignore the unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach as he recovers his strength. The stroking might be working, or at least he hasn't negatively remarked over his "unwanted touch" yet. ]

[carnalizes]

No. Nonetheless, I'm glad you've picked up on my flirting.

[as if this is the first time he's propositioned the mage. hmm. acceptance with more wakefulness this time, too. if he restrains himself from licking cilius' neck, it's only because it's out of reach... and, sure, maybe to avoid sensory overload.]

Mm-hmm.

[he sounds so pleased with himself too, returning that look with a smug smirk of his own. isn't it great? no matter that it's a surprise: that just means he's present to see his human's reaction.]

Don't worry. Bel Cerise will call Sevastien for a ride at some point and be very glad to hear you're awake.

[and easy on the drinking now. the hand inches to cilius' abdomen to continue stroking. sure, getting the warmth of his palm is no hot water bottle, but hey. maybe it's worth something?]

[unmessianic]

It's difficult not to "pick your flirting" when it's a continuous occurrence.

[ Lucilius sneers in annoyance. The Serpent flirts as he breathes and doesn't need to express himself verbally. Why else does he move so slowly with a sway of his hips? Does he think his Master is daft? He's not. He's simply uninterested.

He's exhausted --- that's why he's not squirming away from his grasp. He's better off drinking his water without saying anything else the clod would misunderstand as usual. Hmph. (Though is so tempting to pour the content down this smug demon's head, he'll drench his blankets). ]

Irresponsible behavior won't endear you to the staff if you have high aspirations.

[ Coming along as a drunk who storms off the mansion as soon Lucilius is missing isn't the best way to win his butler's approval. Not that the mage gives a damn about what Assassin does or doesn't with his pointless "courtship." ]

[carnalizes]

[oh, do excuse him. it's only a rare occurrence that the person of his affections locks himself away and looks dreadfully ill afterwards. of course bel cerise is worried sick! but not to worry, no drunk boorish behavior has been or will be exhibited on these grounds. this particular suitor does have a healthy sense of class to go with the kinks.]

Hoh? I don't see how it's irresponsible. Fretting uselessly just isn't my style, and neither am I tracking mud into these halls and your expensive carpets.

[sometimes a guy has to go out on an extensively long walk to clear his head... or something. he'll workshop the juicy details later.]

Besides, I'm sure you'll approve of my surprise gift.

[unmessianic]

[ Quite frankly, it shows his lack of character and commitment to running away from home. Lucilius doesn't care, but the personnel will gossip. ]

You should have stayed and knitted me a scarf.

[ His tongue clicks. His ex-would have. And she's the one point of comparison he'll face. His eyes narrow when he hears that. ]

Present you'll purchase using my money. [ He points dryly. Surely a big waste too. ] Pass.

[carnalizes]

[...]

You want more of those?

[the reference to cilius' ex is summarily ignored. the serpent's surprise is obvious in his features - no, not because his human is picky with the pieces accepted into his wardrobe, but apart from that time he had the uniforms of his staff redesigned, no requests had been forthcoming.

well.

but is it just to keep up a farce or..? his grip tightens a fraction. surely, this would've been the perfect excuse to get rid of an unwanted suitor, and cilius is already listing all the reasons.]

Not this time. [alright, he had thought of adding an actual gift basket to the mix, but --- he's flexible. (moreso now that his miscalculation is evident, and the serpent won't justify it with his own eagerness to hop into bed with cilius.)] Nothing will show up on your credit card statement, zero theft involved.

[a beat. then, quite flippantly:] Of course, I can let myself be spotted coming out of your room. Doesn't that clear things up nicely?

[obviously, this isn't a serious suggestion. the serpent's expecting it to be shot down the moment he finishes the first sentence.]

[unmessianic]

[ He snorts and lightly pokes his ribs with his elbow. ]

It was an example, you clod.

[ Damn, this sounds sickeningly domestic. It makes him want to throw up. He's not asking for more irritating wardrobe change. He doesn't have enough space in his closet to fit all his Servant made, anyway.

Hmph. What's with the tightening grip? Does he think he'll boot him out? He wouldn't risk having Assassin to be without supervision. He remains his Master. The Serpent's clarification makes his already narrow eyes sharpen even more, and he experiences a spike of anxiety. ]

Are you asking for a loan from the bank? [ How else will he afford this? ] Because if that's your plan, don't.

[ He sends him a flat look in response to his "brilliant" proposition of being caught outside his quarters. He doesn't need to hit him on the back of his head to communicate his displeasure. ]

[carnalizes]

[don't be silly, cilius. assassin is more than happy to prep that space for insertions. now that the mage has asked for such things, why shouldn't he oblige?]

One of many choices.

[scarves. socks. a nice fitted vest. maybe a cardigan?]

Please. If I'm to introduce myself to that pit of vipers, it will be as an unseen apex predator draining the luscious holes they think hidden. [he hardly has to lift a finger to encourage corruption there.] Now, I'd show you a hint of how I'm able to preserve old artefacts, but something tells me you don't want six additional layers of leather in this bed.

[his wings, that is.]

[unmessianic]

[ He never said he wanted more, damn it! Lucilius scowls; this time, the jab to the rib isn't as the early, gentle poke. ]

No. No choices. [ He insists, displeased that again the demon does not listen to his Master's wishes. All he hears is a loophole to hoist his unwanted presents. ] I had enough of your runway show.

[ His bristle relaxes after the reassurance he's not making his dubious legal existence leave a trace in Bristol. Lucilius settles, easing the elbow to Assassin's ribcage and glancing suspiciously. ]

Do you wish to gift me one of those priceless old artifacts?

[ That doesn't sound that bad. As long as they don't have curses attached. ]

[carnalizes]

[his breath escapes (wheezes) when the sharp elbow makes an unexpected impact. oof, now they're getting somewhere ---]

Aww.

[alright. one article of clothing per presentation it is. that doesn't even count as modelling effort, does it?

compared to the lovely pose cilius makes right now, even. bit sore, but the serpent's toned musculature can handle more than a little pressure.]

Let's just say it's an old heirloom. [yes. yes, he does. no curses, although traces of demonic energy may still radiate from it. that's just what happens after millennia of safekeeping.] Isn't that enough to make you consider how serious your suitor is about you?

[unmessianic]

[ No more clothes. He has enough and he's wasting his time and Lucilius' resources. ]

I permitted you to make new clothes for my staff. Go and finish that.

[ He reminds him snappily. He's so easily distracted by any promise to clothe his Master. He sends a critical glance at the tight fit of a shirt he wears. The Serpent should focus on making himself clothes of his size. ]

You know I'll have to reject you.

[ He sighs, chest heaving in exhaustion. Why does he deal with this kind of nonsense immediately after waking? ] You must be aware a man from a non-mage family doesn't qualify as a spouse for me.

[ It's only reasonable to expect him to have a wife. Or, at least, to open his options for one due to political alliances. Nobody but Assassin is aware of his project. ]

[carnalizes]

Yeah, the selection of prototypes is almost done.

[because, of course, cilius still has the final say with which design gets to be mass produced. but afterwards? he does have an eternity to spare... or however long this mortal life lasts, now that his dear master doesn't have to drain away his soul's flames.

the denial of his other proposal, now --- it's not the expected decline that catches his attention, but the wording. "have to" instead of an outright "no" prevalent in their previous discussions on the topic. social practicalities aside, is his human finally easing into a new stance..?

more likely, demonic persistence is wearing him down. the serpent huffs and completes the circuit of his arms around cilius, drawing his knees an inch upwards (and no more) to better coil about the man. a shame, really, that he can't use the legal loopholes he's found on the account of certain incompatibilities, but regardless ---]

Get married twice, then. Think about it. What better way to ensure she'll fall in line once she steps into this household and figures out there's already someone poised to be the next head?

You know I don't need your property and assets, so those can go straight to your heir.

[he was here first, and this proper wife is but a hypothetical at present. hell, isn't this a better way to draw ire away from cilius jr? and take care of any "loose ends" if this (non-existent) third party ever has second thoughts or questions if she should spill the beans.

(never mind that the reminder of what transpired in the basement brings back that unsettling sensation at the pit of his stomach.)]

[unmessianic]

I want to see them tomorrow.

[ Lucilius says to drop the topic of his personal wardrobe. He would go today, but his body aches when he tries to move, and he feels completely satisfied by using the demon as his support. He still plans to ask Sevastian for vegetable soup or maybe chicken broth. Anything liquid that he'll digest with ease and return to full swing by the morrow.

The wording is entirely purposeful, not accidental, but he will not let any of his true motivation known. He feels those arms tightly wrap around him and his body being dragged closer to this man's body. He doesn't fight him. Instead, he has his head resting on one of the forearms. Eyes half closed, with a hand reaching to flick Assassin's nose, he sneers at his clueless persistence. ]

Don't be an idiot. Do you think the law supports bigamy?

[ Perhaps for some religions he isn't a practicer. He lets him finish his incoherent babble about assets and legal matters only to laugh hoarsely in response. He is indeed losing his mind. And the fatigue makes his mind permit his mouth to run too loose. ]

Did you honestly believe I was going to marry? I only said that, so you stopped me with your presumptions.

[ It didn't work, and he became more persistent. The possibility of a family on the decline as the Helels get an offer is very slim unless it's a new-minted clan without better prospects. The flicking fingers lower to grab him by the collar of his too-tight shirt. ]

But marriage is an expectation, so that position will be left vacant. Is this understood?

[carnalizes]

Before or after you show me what you've been working on?

[he hasn't forgotten that little conversation on the way up, darling.

now, it's not that he's forgotten the hilarity of human laws so soon after looking up, but really --- why expect a demon to observe them? or to promote their use in both spirit and letter out of the so-called goodness of the heart. for that same reason, he hears something different in cilius' elaboration: the echoes of old human arrangements, the crystallization of what is (what the demon hopes in spite of himself) in all but name. beneath cilius, in a cage of bone cradled with muscle, the serpent's pulse races.]

Cilius.

[his mouth is dry as he reaches up to caress the mage's cheek, a hint of wonder evident in half-lidded eyes and parted lips as his other hand travels up that slender waist to settle at the center of a thin back.]

I am going to kiss you.

[a husky might-be-promise if his human doesn't pull away.]

[unmessianic]

[ His relaxation is disturbed by the unwanted interrogation. Insolent clod. Is this his way of pressing him to show him what he fiercely hides in the workshop? His body stiffens. ]

That's none of your business. [ Lucilius snaps defensively. No, he is aware that is very much his Servant's business to ensure the Master's safety, yet he doesn't want to be hurried. ] If I permit you entrance, show him to you. It'll be when I deem it necessary.

[ Safe too, for Lucifer's sake. He's not wholly certain he can trust the demon with his precious masterpiece anymore. The topic isn't forgotten but what he finally told the Serpent seemed good enough to push it aside for a new priority. His short and slim limbs remain rigid after that brush, however. He is less inclined to humor his amorous brushes and other placating attempts.

He returns that awe-vulnerable gaze with hard, cold eyes as he sneers back. ]

No, you won't.

[ But the hand that should push him away closes to pull him closer to his face. He straightens to crane his neck for a better angle as the fingers curl on Assassin's shirt collar to hold him in place. ]

But I will.

[ He mumbles with a half-angered growl before he tips his head to crush their mouth together. This better shut him up for the rest of the evening. ]

[carnalizes]

Ookay.

[alright, alright, he gets it. daddy's protective streak runs hot and wild. for a moment, the serpent is reminded of his beloved's scolding whenever they find a new, emerging life form, and a nostalgic pang comes as quickly as it goes with a quiet breath and the curl of his fingers.

...yeah. they're never coming back, are they? not as they once were, even with the thirteen feathers to enhance whatever construct is downstairs. his own link with cilius continues to thrive, and he hasn't been able to sense anything else.

but this is fine. maybe. his fingers wander up the ridges of his human's spine to settle upon the base of his skull, fingers tangling with pale hair as a star's void gazes back at him with with a demand for absolute surrender.

a huff of a pleased laugh leaves the serpent as he gives it, his breath, his mind as their lips collide, a full-bodied shiver running through him as he sinks into the bed, holding cilius with an embrace and the tangle of their legs.

hello, love. falling with you is pleasure beyond compare.]

[unmessianic]

[ Lucilius huffs at the carefree affirmation. He is not Lucifer's father and has no paternalistic feelings attached to his masterpiece. He doesn't like being hurried or putting the fruits of his hard and long labor in jeopardy. He doesn't know what is going on in that empty head of his, but he looks up suspiciously as if he's going to try to breach his workshop.

He'll make sure to strengthen the bounded fields when he can. An anti-demon charm, if he can look up into that without arousing suspicion. Hah. By a glance, he can tell the Servant has all but forgotten the previous topic.

(For now).

His fingers curl around the buttons on the Serpent's collar as if scrunching the shirt as he pulls him close. His mouth doesn't open to welcome him; his lips remain sealed as he kisses him. He locks his eyes on those serpentine slits of his and narrows them when the idiot leaves them to fall ungracefully on the mattress. He flinches as their limbs hit during the collision, but the mage stubbornly refuses to give a single centimeter away. His hand still grabs the fabric of his top, although a few fingers loosened from the fall.

He takes it as a challenge to continue kissing him despite the awkward position with Lucilius' limbs tangled with his and his body atop Assassin's.

Is that supposed to be impressive? It's not a great sacrifice to fall on the mattress. ]

[carnalizes]

[paranoid already? hasn't this demon demonstrated that he won't barge in that particular space unwarranted?

of course, he's already moved on from the topic (for now). be they closed or open, cilius' brusing mouth is a thrill to chase, and the serpent's own curl into a wicked smirk when he sees from half-lidded eyes that irritated glare. so rigid, darling, but perhaps that's to be expected for a first time (kissing in bed, that is).

but he's patient. the motion of fingers in his human's scalp is slow, unlike the flow of blood coursing through him. there's no way he will risk spooking the mage after a tension-filled forty-eight hours at a workshop entrance, and this may well be his reward for being a good, vigilant boy.]

[unmessianic]

[ He's perpetually paranoid. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made it past his adolescence. He won't forget that Assassin is a demon, and his loyalties are flexible. He has no fear for his life, but his possessiveness and territorial conduct makes Lucilius label his presence unsafe near the still inactive Lucifer.

The mage's kisses are half methodic and half experimentally raw. He feels trapped in his own skin and something that needs to be released as their mouth meets. He refuses to part his lips with acute precaution (last time the Serpent fed him his blood), but it doesn't mean he's going for soft brushes and chaste pecks. He bruises his mouth against the demon, irritated to feel it curl into a taunting smirk. The hand gripping his shirt relaxes gradually to land on the exposed throat, fingers curling around the adam's apple. He has none of the demon's gentleness and consideration, but he's trying.

He's starting to feel short of breath when he finally pulls out to stare intensively at the Servant's face, cheeks heated with a reddening streak and eyes shiny and distant.

His pulse is remarkably calm and steady. ]

I need to call Sevastien.

[carnalizes]

[and that is absolutely fine. he wouldn't be cilius without that kind of attention to detail, hmm? in some ways, it's reassuring now that he recalls those early days when he stitched together his memories and discovered what had become of his beloved.

the experimentation, too, is gleefully (giddily) welcomed, a layer above absorbing phantom sensations traveling across their link. the serpent exhales through his nose as his eyes slide shut, fingers rubbing slow circles where skin meets scalp, mouth and body and the rest of him chasing and grasping for more of cilius' kiss, the parts of him that desire release, the (surprising yet needily embraced) struggle for some form of reciprocation, the need to be freed from a human shell ---

thin fingers meet his throat. assassin slows, breathless as he settles back into his own senses and opens his eyes to catch a glimpse of that rare distant gaze.

(incongruent. that isn't the pulse of a man who's been making out - and that kiss counts. neither does cilius have the expression he had that time he became overstimulated.)]

So soon?

[a groaned protest even as he slips his arms away from the mage's back to give room.]

[unmessianic]

[Lucilius tries to keep his iron-grip focus on the demon. Even when his fingers caressing his scalp are almost distracting. They draw a small gasp through grit sleep on his forcefully shut mouth. He's getting better at receiving this kind of attention.

He can accept it all with a calm heart. Perhaps he's finally adapting to Assassin's meddlesome presence. Accepting him as a fixture permits some of what the clod desires, but he'll lose the microreactions borne of inexperience and surprise. Overstimulation is partly due to his inability to process something novel. Now that brand of passion has died out. It has become routine.

Once he senses those arms slip away, Lucilius straightens and rolls out the Servant's body. He sits and remains on the edge until he feels strong to rise. ]

Soon? It's late in the evening. [ He points flatly as his gaze flits at the fading sunlight. ] He needs to know I'll have something light for dinner tonight.

[carnalizes]

[on the contrary. if a kiss is only the placement of lips upon something, then why are some more memorable than others? why do worldly lovers repeat the same action? why do neophytes stumble and struggle and curl their toes and chase after he experience, only to fall into it all over again once clumsiness has been shed?

novelty is not what determines the passion of a kiss, but the individual experiences that accompany every meeting of mouths: haste, languidness, determination, comfort, charisma, magnetism, acceptance. one thrilling moment is not the same as the next, and the serpent is not one who strives for neat lifeless boxes. a higher tolerance for sensation is not what steals enjoyment from it.]

Ookay. I suppose I'll stick around until he reaches the hallway. [the demon props his head up on the heel of his palm. the distance between them is not so far that he's unable to reach for his human's nape and trace a sensual line down his spine.] Bel Cerise should be officially back before breakfast.

[and there will be a snake underneath a pillow - or the bed - while his master dines.]