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High-res Assets for Deuce Spade - La Bonbonnière

Heyo! Thanks for the wait! Enjoy ~~

The Arcana Headcanons 「Drunk MC」

Asra

Asra is definitely conscious of your well-being. He’s not trying to pull any moves or take advantage of your possible lack of inhibitions, but that doesn’t mean they’re not having fun. 

“Would you like to play a game?” he asks. 

“What kind of game?” you slur.

“We’ll both say a word, then we have to think of a new word based on them. We say it at the same time, and we can’t give hints about it. We win when we finally say the same word, does that make sense?”

You straighten with a slight sway - eyes excited. 

“Yes!” 

“We’ll say it on ‘three’. Ready? One, two, three.”

“House!”

“Raccoon!”

“Raccoon and house…” Asra hums thoughtfully. You waggle your shoulders playfully. 

“I already got mine,” you taunt. “It’s sooo obvious.”

“Is it, now? All right, one, two, three…”

“Den.”

“Cat!”

“Cat?” he scoffs. “Where in the world did you get that?”

“Cats are house raccoons, Asra! How do you not know that?”

With a hand against his belly, Asra’s cackling until sunrise, or at least until you fall asleep. If you’re too cute to disturb, they’ll leave you at peace in his lap. However, they'd much rather you rest in the comfort of your own bed, because given some of the words you came up with later, you’re going to have a nasty hangover in the morning. 

Julian

For once in his life, Julian is thankful for his liquor tolerance. Sure, that came at the cost of keeling himself over more times than he can count, and given his profession, he knows that his liver is as shriveled as a raisin…. Still, if it means he’s able to piggyback you home after a date at the Raven, then it was a liver well spent. 

“Sing to me, Ilya,” you mumble.

“What do you fancy, my love?”

“Anything. You always sound good.”

He chuckles. While forever a gentleman, there is one thing Julian will pester you about until his head hits the grave, and that is to get you to sing. 

“How about a duet, darling? Two are always better than one.”

If you refuse, that’s fine. He’ll happily offer a melody to the moon on your behalf. However, if you oblige, he himself is over the moon. How many times has he wandered this same path home, drunk and alone, with a bitter tune on his lips? Now, to hear a sweet voice beside him is such a magnificent transformation - even if the voice is a tad slurred by the bitters.

Nadia

Once the fun was done, she plopped you in a bath, slathered you in tinctures and lotions, and tucked you into bed with some water. She knows you’ll thank her in the morning. 

If you knock out immediately, she’ll blow out the candle and follow suit. If not, she’ll indulge in some shenanigans, as she would have already been a bit disheartened to have missed out on the drink. This is a prime opportunity to make up for lost time. The adventure just needs to stay in the confines of the bedroom.

“We can’t have you wandering the halls like a ghost. We’ve had enough of that, haven’t we?”

Nadia never needs fashion advice, but there’s something about the ones you offer while tipsy that are the most amusing - as well as the most honest. There’s always some magnanimous event plastered somewhere onto her calendar, and now’s a perfect time to pick a dress.

“I’m experimenting with colors. How’s this green?”

“Mmm,” you mumble while shifting your head side-to-side. “Nah, you’d look like a booger. Try that purple-pinky one.”

“Fuchsia, darling, but thank you. I knew I could count on you.”

Muriel

The most interaction Muriel has had with drunks was with Lucio or the Coliseum patrons. Both were obnoxious, and neither enticed him towards liquor. He’s a bit put off the first time you get a tipsy, until he realizes that you are in no way like his previous harassers. 

“Abracadabra!”

“What are you doing?” he asks, eyebrows quirked in amusement. He’s found you squat outside of the coops with your hands casting spells in the air. 

“I need an egg. I’m hungry.”

“So you’re using magic?”

“What’s the point of having magic if I can’t even make an egg?”

“Well, what’s the point of having me if I can’t make one for you?”

He’s hauling you over his shoulders and marching you back into the hut. He’s playing grouchy, but your chirps of laughter have a blush creeping down his chest. You’re getting sat down for food and water, and he may try to convince you to sleep it off. However, he’s not trying that hard. Admittedly, you’re adorable and much like a toddler who’s discovering how to use their words and limbs for the first time. This is his favorite TV show.

Portia

Portia knows her way around a drunken sailor or two. She’s had to wrestle her fair share of shipmates into their beds with a bowl of soup to follow. She’s doing the same for you, except you’re not a salty, smelly sailor and much more kissable. 

“Pay the toll,” she says, tapping her cheek. You oblige with a kiss, and she obliges with another slice of bread. 

“I didn’t know it was so expensive around these parts.”

“I’m the best of the best, didn’t you know?” She winks. “It don’t come cheap.”

“How much would it cost for a slice of cake?”

“Hmmm,” she hums playfully. “Depends - do you want a strawberry on top?”

“Always.”

She’s going to run your wallet dry, but you’re not totally getting swindled out of kisses. When you wake up, you’re as right as rain. Whatever she gave you the night before completely chased away the hangover. It seems Portia’s got a magic of her own. 

Lucio

Lucio is absolutely taking advantage of this situation, but it’s not dubious (surprisingly…). This is just his chance to have some fun that you would never allow.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, holding out his hand. For once, you take it.

You’re off into the night. Where your footsteps falter, he’s there to catch you. Higher and higher, you climb into the sultry Vesuvian night until you're quite literally on top of a roof.

“Lucio, whose roof is this?”

“Sheesh, I dunno. I didn’t build the place.” He nestles down and secures you beside him. “Besides, no one owns the sunrise, and that’s what we came here to see.”

It is beautiful. Despite all the years living in Vesuvia, Lucio has managed to find a sunrise that pales each and every one you’ve seen. 

“It’s all about the way the light hits the water,” he says, pointing out to the horizon. “This is one of the only places you’ll see it.”

Here, he’ll enjoy the silence with you, and preferably, he’ll try to get you to sleep. It was no easy feat dragging a drunk to these heights, and he knows he gave you none of the things your body needs to recover the night.