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It happens in the blink of an eye.
One second they’re sweeping through shadows like a hot knife would through butter, the next six others are summoned, cornering them with new waves of attacks. Suddenly tipping the scales around.
Joker throws himself to the ground, narrowly dodging a Maziodyne that would have surely burned him into a crisp. Skull and Noir aren’t so lucky—they narrowly escape the maw of a brutal Maragidyne, having to deal with singed skin and burned spots in return. Joker manages to down his opponent for the time being and turns around to get a quick overview of the situation—everyone’s busy keeping an overwhelming amount of shadows at bay.
Mona can barely keep up with all the spells he has to cast, even Oracle is too busy keeping dropping health bars above a certain threshold to bother getting rid of stacking status effects. Joker dodges another attack, sends a dagger flying back that fails to kill his enemy. Then does the same for a quite literally confused Violet to protect her from a certain K.O.
Fucking hell. There’s no time to dig out items, no time for anything other than being on the constant move and counter attacking the second they get the opportunity to. They deal with this on a nearly daily basis, but [redacted]'s palace has a concerning amount of enemies capable of triggering status ailments, making it considerably difficult to win prolonged battles.
“Crow,” Joker shouts, his own call sending a zap of energy through his sluggish muscles.
He doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know where Crow is, his presence as prominent as that of his persona. Joker cycles from Fafnir to Byakhee to send a row of buffs towards Crow. Unbridled excitement floods him when Crow seamlessly reads his intentions and prepares his own attack, winding up a large Laevateinn in time for the buffs to hit.
For all that happened, their teamwork has never shone brighter.
One shadow is smart enough to notice the sharp increase in magic in the air. It whips around from where it pinned Mona down, its body glowing in ominous colours. Joker manages to deflect the first spell sent Crow’s way, but not the second one—it doesn’t matter anyway, as Crow’s had enough time to prepare, Loki’s sword already sailing down in a merciless arc.
Joker doesn’t need to command his teammates anymore—they all jump back as the entire room explodes into a blinking, all consuming roar of white, ears ringing from the combination of overwhelming magic and the maniacal laughter of one happy Crow.
With his eyes closed to shield himself from the blinding light, Joker can feel the corners of his own mouth curling.
Once the light clears he sees Crow standing next to him, hunched over from the large amount of energy he just consumed to wipe the entire floor clean. Where Joker takes on a more complimentary style of support fighting due to his vast arsenal of personas, Crow has established himself as the heaviest damage dealer out of everyone—it shows brilliantly each and every time, especially in perilous situations like these.
The reliability is extremely attractive. And Joker won’t lie and say the practiced ease Crow executes shadows with doesn’t send his blood racing every now and then, spurring him on to swap to a more aggressive persona, accept the invitation, partake in dance and carnage.
“What an astounding ability,” Fox murmurs next to him, one finger to his chin. It twitches, probably for his sketchbook. “It might even be more massive than the last one.”
Joker nods. “Good job, Crow.”
Crow doesn’t react to the compliment—he rarely does, hiding his callous exhilaration behind scoffs and disinterested flicks of his wrists. He always likes to stir and pick fights he knows he’ll win with everyone. Joker’s more often than not left to play peace keeper so the group doesn't strangle Crow as a collective one sooner or later; bastard probably enjoys it.
It’s unusual for Crow to just linger in place when the group starts preparing to move on, though. Always the one to keep pushing, to be at the frontlines. Hurry up, but never Hurry up, Joker, as he’s the first person to catch up with him.
After they've patched each other up as best as they could, Joker signals for his group to go ahead without him. He turns towards Crow, who has opted to throw away all of his sharp head gear.
“Fucking shit, my head.” Crow groans, fisting damp strands of honey brown hair between his claws.
That doesn’t sound very promising. The spell didn't seem to be of a damaging sort at least, Crow's clothes completely intact, multiple belts and all. The aftermath of a status ailment perhaps?
Joker brushes his fingers along Crow’s elbow to gather his attention. Smiling briefly when he doesn't get shrugged off, a treatment everybody else would have had the honour of receiving.
“You alright?” He asks.
“What do you think,” Crow hisses, but the venom in his voice is noticeably extenuated as he practically grinds the syllables out from his mouth.
Crow turns around, shaking his head.
“I'll be fine in a bit.” His eyes dart left and right, before eventually locking onto Joker. He probably bit back a more obnoxious reply. “Let’s move.”
Joker pushes his own mask up to get a better look at him. Crow seems awfully unfocused. “You sure? We can always call it a day.”
“Already giving up?” Crow's beguiling smile doesn't match his cheerful inquiry. “You can stay behind if you want to, but I will continue on..." He blinks. "We can't afford to slack off even for a moment. I will not.. I will not…." Crow slowly trails off.
Joker resists the urge to touch him again. Crow's called him a worried mother hen a few times already, no need to give him more ammo.
But there's definitely something wrong, as much as Crow wants to deny it. And since Crow doesn't have his mask on, Joker can take a pretty good guess—there's a faint pink hue surrounding Crow's maroon eyes. Barely recognisable, but still there, glowing brighter by the second.
Crow's expression goes frighteningly blank as he slowly releases his hair.
“Uh, Crow?”
No response.
Joker instinctively takes a step back. Crow takes a step forward.
Well.
Joker knows it's his cue to run when Crow's mouth distorts into a small smile that's just a bit too wide to be Crow's, growing larger by the second.
"Joker."
He doesn't get to hear what might follow because there's Milady appearing out of nowhere, slamming into Crow and sending him flying to the other side of the area where he lands with a rather audible crash.
Holy fucking shit. Joker doesn't get to linger on what sticky situation just unfolded as Panther’s already pushing him aside and out of the way, several people bodyblocking him next.
"Whatever is wrong with you, don't you dare lay a finger on him!" Skull shouts.
Joker has little idea what's going on. He's proud his team didn’t slack off and recognised there’s something wrong with Crow, even after he sent them off, and hurried to protect him—which is more of a testimony on how little they trust Crow, now that he thinks about it—but is also distinctively worried for the man in question because any harder and Noir would have surely knocked him out for a few solid days.
A battered, but furious cry of Loki echoes back towards them. It's Joker's cue to push forward—Queen seems adamant about keeping him out of this though. She shakes her head as she lays a firm hand on his shoulder, keeping him in line.
"He's brainwashed. Let us deal with him, you've exhausted yourself enough already."
He didn't. He has a considerable amount of mana left, they didn't train nearly as much as him, so he tries to shake her off. “I can help. Let me—”
Queen gives a bitter smile. “Consider it a payback of sorts. Please, Joker?" She leaves him at that, joining the rest in an already ongoing battle against an out of control Crow.
If there's anything Joker hates, it's being useless. The effect is amplified when he's in the Metaverse, easily slipping into the reliable role of leader Joker—he tries swallowing an array of negative feelings down as best as he can. This is no time for self pity.
Joker gets the sentiment after all, understands why Noir and Oracle seem more than chipper to get in a hit or two, and he trusts his teammates not to harm Crow more than necessary.
The same unfortunately can't be said for Crow who seems hell bent on sending them six feet under. For real this time.
“I will slaughter you all,” he screams as he catches Fox’ katana with his bare claws, pushing him away and right into poor Mona. “Nobody gets away! I will kill you, I will destroy you—"
“Senpai's gone more insane than usual,” Violet cries out, just barely deflecting the razor sharp edge of a sword with her own rapier.
“Amrita Shower doesn't work”, Noir yells. “Somebody debuff and down him so we can get close!"
“On it!”
This is quickly taking a turn for the worse. Everyone's condition hasn’t been great to begin with since the last fight. And on the other hand there’s Crow, whose status effect seems to have given him an entirely new surge of energy. He deflects one spell with two of his own, counters attacks with double their speed and strength. It doesn't make for a pretty picture.
But Crow is heart achingly beautiful, even as he manages to sink his claws into Queen’s sides, drawing painful gasps and angry looks. An utterly fascinating display of power against so many people.
Joker knows he can't heed Queen's request any longer though. Not when his entire team is struggling to take a feral Crow down, not when the scene is resurfacing bitter memories on the very back of his throat and he can actually do something about it this time.
“Arsene!” he calls.
Joker prepares to charge into battle, trusting Mona to take care of unattended injuries. The moment he pushes forth though, Crow abruptly stops.
He even drops a struggling Panther, letting her fall to the floor where she wheezes for air. Violet rushes to her side to pull her out of Crow's immediate vicinity, carefully keeping an eye on him.
Crow just keeps staring at Joker, an unreadable expression in his glowing eyes, their intensity positively bone melting.
Joker's never been afraid of Crow. Not truly, not in the way Crow would have probably liked to hear.
But for the first time, Joker feels his prey instinct kicking in as Loki flickers away and Crow calmly makes his way towards him.
Everyone capable of doing so immediately shifts stances, weapons and personas ready, all pointed towards Crow. The atmosphere couldn't have been more charged. It’s on the verge of snapping like paper frozen solid. In the midst of it all, Crow just continues walking towards Joker, before he eventually stops in front of him, so close Joker can feel his body heat radiating off him in waves.
"Joker," Crow drawls again, in that same, gravely tone from earlier.
It spells doom. Arsene is still out but Crow seems utterly unbothered by that fact, merely staring him down with the little height advantage he has. Joker gulps, and has to gulp once more when Crow's eyes immediately dart to his throat, following the movement like a hypnotised cobra.
Which gives him an excellent idea. Probably the worst he's ever had.
Joker establishes eye contact again, makes sure he won't lose it, and slowly tilts his neck to the side. Exposing what little pale flesh he has that isn't covered by his high collar. He tries to ignore the light gasps he receives from a few selected people.
Crow's eyes widen, pupils dilating. Joker immediately flushes, an involuntary pink flooding his cheeks without his permission. No backing out now, he reminds himself. Just take one for the team.
Joker doesn't say anything out of fear of triggering Crow into another killing spree. He isn't sure if this… tactic is working—but Crow is still immobile, eyes still latched onto his neck, so Joker tilts his head further.
Crow's mouth drops open ever so slightly. Joker prays somebody will react before Crow pounces and eats him alive.
“Crow?” he tries, matching the other's apparently limited vocabulary.
Crow's lips twitch, sharp teeth showing for a brief second. It causes everyone to take a step closer and for Crow to stiffen and summon his sword once more. Joker, insanely clever as he is, puts a hand on the edge of Crow's sword, lightly pushing it down, trying not to shudder as rows of sharp teeth dig into the leather of his gloves.
Crow stares at the point of contact like he's grown a second limb.
“I would appreciate it,” Joker swallows thickly when Crow's eyes immediately flicker back to him, “if you could stop attacking us.”
Crow makes another throaty sound—he's very much devolved to an animal, Joker thinks, or perhaps merely embraced his new nature, who knows—and signals everyone else to put their weapon down.
Are you insane? Skull mouths towards him.
Maybe. Do you trust me? Joker mouths back.
He hates playing this card because he knows his friends do, all of them, but he doesn't think the Phantom Thieves would sheath their weapons otherwise. He can't really blame them, not when Crow is like... is like this. Whatever this is.
But it leaves him with Crow, who looks mildly placated by the lack of weapons around him and the offer of his neck, but still on the very edge of doing something. Killing him, eating him, clawing him apart. Not every of those options is probably as attractive as it sounds. Joker tries not to linger on whether it is strange to have a preference for the way you die by the hands of your rival.
Arsene's voice soothingly drags down his spine, pushing clouding, bumbling thoughts away. He's very much like a wolf, no?
Joker looks at Crow and tries not to snort. Yes.
Tell me then, little thief: How would you command a wild dog to heed your call?
For once Skull might be right. Right now he feels more than just a little insane—refreshingly daring, perhaps, for Arsene's question to oil his thinking gears into producing a long awaited, possible solution to their predicament.
Summoning every bit of authority he can muster, Joker says, “Crow! Go and sit down!”
Crow makes an inexplicable noise. Skull looks at him like he's lost his mind, and Panther’s face seems to be torn between amusement and a clear display of horror.
Arsene merely chuckles and retreats back into the depth of his consciousness.
And—
And then Joker collides with a solid chest. Arms seamlessly wind around his body, and with his face pressed into the crook of Crow's neck—top notes of citrus, amber, spice, and a lingering note of something flowery, perhaps lavender—
—Crow sits down.
Incoherent yelling bursts all around him.
"What the hell?"
“Did brainwashing him turn him into a dog?”
“I’m not sure, but—Fox! This is absolutely no time to draw!”
"I don't think he qualifies as a dog," Joker says, though that might come out a bit muffled with how close Crow is pressing their bodies, his face practically shoved into Crow's shoulder. He's never been more glad for Crow's current lack of mask or else he would have met a surely unattractive fate.
His relief acutely stagnates when he realises he can barely move. At least not without disrupting Crow, he doesn’t know how safe that option would be anyway. Crow taking him down and manhandling him into his lap caught him completely off guard, and with the two arms holding him in place, there's little he can do as Crow pushes his own nose into Joker's neck in return. Inhaling, exhaling deeply. Chest faintly vibrating with low rumbles of satisfaction. Contentment.
It's probably because of the whole predator versus prey thing. Wolves usually go for the most vulnerable part of the body—the neck, don't they? Not to mention Crow's displayed very predator like behaviour before, with or without status ailments. Joker should know. Perhaps knowing he could kill the leader of the Phantom Thieves with one precise bite soothes his frenzied mind more than any amount of Amrita showers combined ever could.
The thought should make him feel dreadful. Not a little excited.
Completely unaware of his internal dilemma, most of his friends have taken the opportunity to get a little closer.
"So, what do we do now?" Queen sighs. Crow tenses at the sound of her voice but doesn't do anything otherwise, so Joker counts it as a win. "We can't very well stay like this."
"At least Crow has stopped attacking us?"
"I'd suggest we move, but.. that might be a little difficult with how much Crow is clinging to our leader," Oracle cackles.
"Oh!" Violet jumps up. "Doesn’t Crow senpai look, uhh, a little tamed to you right now? He did listen to Joker senpai after all, so maybe we can work with that?"
"And how long do you think this will last? Look at what he did to Queen!"
They break out into a discussion after that, one Joker admittedly isn't paying any attention to. Every inch of his body feels like it's on fire. On fire and glued to every inch of Crow's, which is an inherently bad scenario in itself of course, but combined with the fact Crow is still nuzzling his neck with a weird sort of killing instinct Joker's brain misinterprets for affection, there's not much room to think about anything else.
Plus he's wearing that goddamn suit of his which has no business being this tight. Even if Joker tried his best to be polite and not to stare before, there's no denying how Crow feels against him.
He couldn't be more focused on the subtle shifts of Crow's body beneath him—Crow’s inhales are generous, expanding his chest to its maximum capacity, crowding Joker in just a tad more. The exhales are more quiet, a deliberate edge to them, fanning across his neck in gentle waves, limbs following the subtle deflate of his torso. Just the briefest loss of contact when that happens makes Joker want to move closer because Crow is… surprisingly warm.
So he does, and gets the pleasure of feeling Crow's breath hitch in his throat before his arms find a way to wind even tighter around him, claws pressing into and around his waist. Equally guarding as possessive. As if he's experiencing physical pain the further Joker is away, and the thought fills Joker with a strange bottle of emotions that is better left tossed into the sea. He digs his teeth into his lower lip, trying to remember how to talk.
“Crow,” he murmurs, miraculously managing to free his right arm with a little bit of tugging. He carefully settles it around Crow’s neck. “Crow. You need to let go of me.”
A loud growl resonates just next to his ear, guttural and breaking for no argument. Remembering small hints of sharp ivory against his skin, Joker shivers.
Different approach.
“Alright, how about this. You don't need to let go of me. You can hold me all you want. But is there a possibility we can stand up?” Joker plays with the very fine hair at the bottom of Crow's neck, growing a little bolder when Crow's ongoing growl loses intensity. He even seems to lean into his touch. “We really need to go and find a safe room. Any longer and we might run into some serious danger.”
Joker gasps when open lips brush against his neck, sending his pulse fluttering. He grips Crow's hair marginally tighter, trying not to fight his instincts to move away. Crow would just take it as the initiative to chase.
He swallows a low groan when Crow tries nipping at his ear. This is getting a little out of hand. “Please, Akechi? Can you do that for me?”
It takes another minute of whispering sweet nothings into his ear, accompanied with light, encouraging touches and letting Crow burrow his entire face in his neck until Crow begrudgingly complies. Even then it's not in the way Joker expected, though it's something he probably should have considered given the behaviour Crow exhibited previously.
He lets out a dignified yelp when Crow simply rises from the ground. No preamble, no preparation, no bullshit. Simply using the strength in his legs to go from cross legged to a standing position. Joker feels very much like an attractive monkey when he latches onto him with everything he has, legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck. With the iron grip Crow has on him he doubts he needs it but who knows.
“I can't believe I have to see this,” Queen murmurs, shaking her head.
“You should see what I have to deal with,” Mona grumbles.
Joker feels his face burning up in real time when comments of similar nature follow—apparently Fox is still drawing, too—and buries his face back into Crow's chest. He has to tilt his head a bit lower than he's comfortable with but he doesn't care.
"Let's get to the nearest safe room," he announces, as loud as he can since Crow’s dreadful suit still proves to be an annoying obstacle. "I will have Crow following you, so don’t worry about us."
Anything so they don't see his painfully obvious embarrassment and giddiness over the entire situation.
When Crow stays still and presses a curious little kiss to his temple in an attempt to coax him out, he just curls further into himself, really hoping the effect won't last for much longer.
He might not survive another hour of this.