gn reader, it is chaotic, columbina does touch reader like very publicly how far that goes is ambiguous, obviously consumption of alcohol

by this I actually mean how many drinks does it take for them to be all over you (optionally their s/o) which will find its answer, this includes every Harbinger because there is no grandpa discrimination in this household 🙏 requests will start getting posted again tomorrow

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The youngest Harbinger is alright, but arguably one of the worst when it comes to how drunk he'll get and how quick. If being a massive casual flirt with you already doesn't help (which it does not), then getting a couple drinks in him can only make him worse. As if stealing all of his restraint and boundaries— possibly mistakable for sense of reason— it unlocks a secondary urge that somehow overtakes his need to fight everything that does or does not move. He can take you (not in a fight tho). A few drinks in, and you better take them away from him before he becomes too over-eager and starts on his quest to fight the other Harbingers once more. Usually, it's quite easy to get him to settle if you just tie him to the nearest pole and leave him for a while to get through his fight with a rope first.

Arlecchino is surprisingly good in this respect, though more so because it's hard to tell when she's drunk except for the fact that she speaks differently, more open with her feelings than when she's sober, and unabashedly will speak her mind in the same tone she usually speaks her insults unless it is to you. For some reason, her equally shameless words and advances always comes out something not like a question and a borderline nag to go with her somewhere—to her room, no doubt—down to outright admitting that she wants you. She barely leaves any room for your decline or contemplation when she's following you around all night like a lost, stray dog whimpering at your feet, and it's kind of cute. You won't go with her, though, because you know what she wants, so she'll just have to wait until you get to enjoy yourself a little at the very least. She's still so ridiculously cute asking with a straight face, however, especially once you manage to settle her to the point she falls asleep head on the table out like a light.

Unfortunately too used to drinking over business, Pantalone is tipsy at best as he's no stranger to drinking some ornate expensive wine after a long day of work, though the flush in his cheeks tells you he's at least a little gone. He rests his head on your shoulder without a word most of the time, perhaps purposefully gluing you to your place by his side so that you cannot be stolen away. He says he's not tired whenever you ask, and you don't doubt that somehow. He's got an added boisterous charm to his laugh, but his voice is low, and he stares at you through his lashes as he's coaxing you into drinking with him. Drink some more, loosen up, there's nothing to worry about. Of course, there's always something to worry about with him, never able to just let you be when he's drunk as he's a bit of a pest.

Insisting that you drink two glasses for her single finished one, Signora is far more focused on getting you drunk than herself. She holds drinks to your lips, practically forcing you to down them to get her to get off your back, all with an arm over your shoulders, keeping you from backing away. She's shockingly promiscuous in a way—though not explicitly—this night will just most definitely end with the two of you having drunkenly made out at least twice, and she's got a good amount of glasses of wine under her belt, as well as you stumbling and at your limit needing her help to find your bearings. Her chest is soft, of course you can use her as your pillow all you want, and of course she'll get you home safe.

An interesting case is the mysterious disappearance of Sandrone's stoic exterior, her usual abrasiveness replaced by a giggly and borderline childish self far more interested in finding something funny in everything and bothering you to carry her around, including back to her room— or yours. She's not picky. Only two drinks in, she behaves like she has never heard of subtlety in her life. Often she will question why you keep doing the things you do, especially if that happens to ruin all her fun, like pulling her away from Tartaglia so that she will stop teasing the poor boy, or to get her to stop loudly asking all of the details of the ins and outs of Scaramouche's workings when he's shifting in his seat trying to hide his discomfort behind his own abrasiveness. Eventually, you may have to carry her back to her room, if only to get her to go to bed and try to get all the rest she can before she wakes up the next morning hungover and miserable.

Scaramouche may only be a puppet, but his other functions seem to work just fine...it still surprises you that he manages to get drunk, much less that he starts getting overly emotional when he does and ends up crying over nothing until you manage to cheer him up as he buries his head in your chest. Apparently, he's just very happy to see you, despite you having been there all night, and he doesn't want you to go anywhere despite the fact you never had any intention of doing so yet. It's so strange but not unwelcome, just hard to get used to, though you let him loiter around you and cling a little. Every time you have to go somewhere, he's asking where you're going, and only when you provide a good enough answer does he stare a little before nodding slowly and resting his head on his arms for comfort, waiting for you to come back.

Over time you learned to stop getting Pulcinella drunk as it leads to him telling the same stories of his youth he's convinced beyond a doubt that you've never heard before. His earlier days in the Fatui are practically ingrained in your mind as you have little choice but to grin and bear it, hoping he doesn't notice that you're not really listening. Of course he notices, however, and in his usual exaggerated movements, taps your nose to draw your attention back, threatening to steal it if you don't pay attention. Youngsters these days is his usual grumble, and as always, you must remind him you are not, in fact, a 'youngster'. It is quieter, more intimate storytelling between the two of you, maybe only Pierro at your side interested in hearing all of this though you're pretty sure Pulcinella hasn't even noticed he's there considering he's so fixated on you and where your eyes are, anywhere but him and he's promptly drawing your attention right back.

Capitano holds his liquor so well you're a little worried for his liver, as the worst offence he manages is making a couple of bad jokes. Barely does he seem affected by it, but you wonder if managing to conceal his face well enough has anything to do with it or if he simply hasn't had anything to drink at all in the absence of any desire to take his helmet off just yet. Considering his demeanour has changed slightly, you're willing to bet the former. He is awfully touchy and forward in all of his advances, though his boldness would never overstep too far. He can hear a no and accept it, but by the time that helmet is resting on the table by his side and he's buried his face in his hands, far too drunk to reason with himself to keep it on, he does begin to get far closer than before with every word said just a half inch from your ear in a hushed tone and his arm around you so comfortably you may begin to forget it's even there.

Ever your biggest fan, Columbina wants you to do all sorts of things, not for any discernible reason. She just claims you're quite adorable. She absolutely must see the face you make after a kiss, and when someone touches your face, when you have your hair pulled and how flushed your face is when her hands travel down from your face toward your body. Of course, she will largely refrain from going too far in the presence of others, though she is touchy, almost like dangling off you, and most importantly, she is hopelessly convincing. Regardless of whether you told yourself at the start of the night that you would not hear a word of her requests, it began so slowly and spiralled so quickly that giving her just a little more leeway won't be too bad, right? It'll be fine to allow her to lay he head down on your chest and wrap her arms around you, continuing to speak to others all the while capturing all of your attention, and with how sleepy she sounds, you imagine you have hers as well with what little energy she has to spare still contributing to the conversation.

Dottore is usually such a butch that you initially thought getting him drunk would only make him bitchier, but one drink in and his experience with alcohol is showing. By the second, he claims to not want any more, and god forbid someone tries to convince him a third is a good idea because he will proceed to complain of feeling sick and deflate until he can leave. His second, however...his second has him talking shop, just not the way you thought it might. He's telling you about all these things that—while certainly not completely objectively interesting—have him genuinely smiling even just a little as he passionately explains the many things he has pursued solely based on whims and fixations. For a man who seldom speaks to anyone, drinks get him talking, and with no inclination to stop him, you sit and listen as he tells you about the ways his segments are made and how he went about discovering and acquiring the materials to do so. He wants you to come with him to his lab so he can show you these things, but with very little desire to allow him to accidentally ruin something of his while drunk, you quickly dissuade him from that and decide to take him elsewhere to let him cool off instead.

Conservative in his drinking in the first place, Pierro does not allow himself much freedom to relax in a setting where he has to watch everyone, at least at the start of the night when tensions are still high, and everyone is sensible enough to remember their quarrels with each other. as the night progresses, however, the small sips of his drink become more frequent, and his appearance follows suit, hair a bit dishevelled from the number of times he's touched it, clothing loosened to allow himself more room to breathe and hands often finding their way to you as he speaks, resting on your shoulder or on your thighs, fingers brushing against your cheek or thumb tracing your lips. to be honest you kind of like him like this, less reserved but restrained enough to be fighting his own resolve not to do something that may be too forward. You can tell in the way that resolve and the will to fight against his own wants slips away bit by bit, touches lasting longer, kisses first on your forehead finding their way to your lips and his arm, which had been resting on the table, finally around your waist as you both walk back to whichever of your respective rooms finds you first.