These Thorns Are Rosy

(This is based off a little plot-concept-thing from @septic-dr-schneep‘s blog! It happened…a while ago. Oops.

Marvin accidentally cursed JJ, and now everything JJ touches becomes roses and his hands prick people he touches as though they’re covered in thorns. Title inspired by the song Hey Look Ma, I made It by Panic! At The Disco.)

“I called Marvin, just try to calm down. Just-just breath. In, out, in, out,” Chase said, putting his hand on JJ’s shoulder. The young ego jerked away, loosing his footing from how violently he did so.

“I can’t!” His speech slide shook like it was in an earthquake. “I-I don’t understand what’s happening!” Chase tried to get close to him again, but JJ stumbled back. “No! No, you mustn't touch me!”

“Okay, okay! I won’t touch you!” Chase said, putting his hand up. “But please just breath, okay? Take a deep breath. Marvin can fix this. I’m sure.”

JJ took a deep breath, and his hands trembled a little less. “Right, y-yes. Marvin can fix this.” He looked at the petals littering the floor, at the way chase was rubbing his hand and wincing. Oh god, he hoped Marvin could fix it.

Three days.

Three days and Marvin still had no idea how to reverse…whatever curse was on JJ.

Whatever curse he’d put on JJ.

He didn’t even know how it had happened. All he knew was that he’d gone with JJ to pick up some rose seeds, and then…his eyes widened.

The car ride. During the ride back home, he’d been the one holding the seeds, and he’d fallen asleep. He had a dream, a dream where strings pulled at his arms and forced his magic out of him, where his magic was no longer his own, where whispers had swirled around his head in inside his mind and forced themselves out of his mouth, where stabbing pains wrapped around him and he could feel static in his blood, and hen it had all drained away and he was left with only the sounds of screeching broken records.

He felt the hairs on his neck stand up, but not just from the revelation. Static filled the air around him, and he knew it was no coincidence that he was only able to remember the dream now.

He whirled around and found himself face-to-face with the Glitch himself. Marvin raised his hand, but Anti just smiled and suddenly the magician was plunged into darkness.

Three days.

Three days that Jameson couldn’t touch anyone or anything. Not food, not a glass of water, and he refused to let his brothers come near him for fear of harming them.

Oddly enough, he didn’t feel hungry. He had taken to spending his time outside, where he couldn’t do any damage. He felt better in the sun, he discovered, especially when he took his hat off.

He wouldn’t mind that so much if he hadn’t begun to find rose buds in his hair, rose buds that had no way to get there.

Unless they hadn’t gotten there, and had started there instead. The thought sent shivers down his spine.

“JJ?”

He looked up, startled out of his thoughts. Marvin knelt down in front of him. “What are you thinking about?”

Jameson clasped his hands together like he was afraid they’d reach out and touch Marvin all on their own. “I’m not getting any better, Marvin, in fact I do believe I’m getting worse. I’m just hoping for when this nightmare will end.”

Marvin blinked, and looked down at the ground. “About that…” He sighed, and when he looked back up Jameson was taken aback by the defeat in his expression. “I…I can’t find a fix. I’m afraid…I’m afraid this may be permanent.”

Jameson reeled back. “W-what?”

Marvin ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been doing everything I can. None of my books or tomes have anything helpful, and a few of them just flat out say that curses like this are irreversible.”

Jameson felt panic swell up within him. “N-no. No, that can’t-”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down! You’re hyperventilating, just-OW!”

Marvin yanked his hand away from Jameson’s shoulder. Jameson’s eyes went wide at the sight of the bleeding cuts on the magician’s hands. “Oh goodness, I-I’m sorry…”

Marvin had touched his shoulder, not his hands. Oh god.

“It’s fine,” Marvin said, squeezing his eyes shut. He cradled his hand as the blood continued too pool in his palm.

Jameson felt sick. He got to his feet and started running. He didn’t know where to, just…away.

Marvin opened his eyes and looked up, watching the young ego sprinting away. A grin spread across his face, and his eyes turned black before passed out. Anti materialized next him. He leaned down and pet the magician’s hair. “ T̕ha͘nk y̶o̧ư so̷ ̧m̢uch̡ f͞o͞r͟ ̀your̀ ̴hel̀p,” he sneered. He glitched away, leaving the unconscious Marvin to bleed on the grass.

Jameson slowed down, out of breath. He wasn’t sure where he was. Somehow in his blind panic he’d found himself in a wooded area of some kind, surrounded by trees and bushes that seemed to taunt him. No people. Only plants.

He put his hand in his hands, but quickly pulled them away. Another rose bud. He scowled and threw it on the ground, grinding it into the dirt with his shoe.

“Su̷ch̛ ang͡e̢r for som͟e̵t̨hin͞g so҉ s͠m͟al̶l.͠” Anti’s voice echoed from the shadows, shadows that were gradually becoming deeper as the sun set. “A̡nd͞ s̡uch҉ a͝ng̶e͘r͝ ̧at ̵t͏he ̀bud, ͠as̕ we҉ll.̴”

“W-where are you, demon?” Jameson was sure he didn’t truly want to know the answer, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“W̡h̶ere a̶re͟ ̛y̕ou? ̨R̴u͠n̛ a҉w͜a̡y from͟ ̀home͘,̧ I̵ ̡s͘e͢ȩ”

Jameson spun around, trying to figure out there the voice was coming from, but all he saw were the old, creaking trees. Had they looked so rotten and dead before? Was it just a trick of the night? “What do you want?”

“Yo͝u ͢hur͢t ̡t͡hem͝, ̛r̡įg̛ht? You'͟ve͠ m̷a͘d̴e ̢t͜hém ̶b̨lee͝d.͝” Jamseon saw something flicker into view out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to face it there was nothing there.

“I- I didn’t mean to!” he shouted, the speech slide frantically weaving thought the trees.

“D̶ǫe͘s t͢ha̴t ͏m̴át̨t͘er?҉ ̢Yơu h̀urt̴ tḩȩm̸.́ Y̛ou'̛r̸e g͞u͝i̡l͜ty̴. Y̛ou͞'̴r͟é da̵n҉g̀e͠r͟ous͞. Yǫu͝'r͢e ha̸r͡mfu̡l͢.”

The echo grew louder, and combined with Jameson’s turning and spinning to find the source of the voice he was getting too dizzy to stand. He collapsed to his knees, holding his head. “No!”

“Yo͜ú'v͏e̢ al҉way̕s̵ ̸be҉en̡ a da͏n͠ge͞r̴,̶ ̷pupṕet̸. T͞he c̡ur̨se ̨j̨ust ̸b̸r͝ou̴gh͜t tha͞t t̸o̡ the ̴su͏rfa͢c̴e͡.̡ Yo̧u̧'r͜e ̧ju҉s̢t ͟as ͟da̸n̢g̀rous̀ to̶ the̶m͜ a̷s͜ ̢m̢e.̡”

“Be-be quiet!”

Jameson felt hands grip his shoulders. He jerked his head up and found himself staring into the eyes of Antisepticeye. They flickered between solid black and a toxic green. Jameson found it hard to look away. “Wh̶ý? ҉D́o̧e̕s t͝he̡ ̶trut͠h͢ ̛hu̧r͏t ́t͟oo mu̡c̀h?͏ Y͟ou'̢r͠é ͠m͡ine̕.͘ ͜Y͝ou ͟aļwa̕ys ҉h̸ave ́be̴e̢ń. O͝f͏ c͢o̴u͟r͝s̀e yo̸u'͏r̷e a͜ ͡r̸ós̷e.̛ Yo͜u͝ see̡m̛ ͠so̧ ͘s̀weet, ͡b͟ut ͞r̀ea͠l͢l͏y ̕y̨o̢u͞'re͞ còv̢ȩre̸d͠ ̷in ͏t҉h̶orns.”

Jameson tore his gaze away from Anti’s eyes and looked at the hand resting on his shoulder. “How-how are you not hurt?”

“B͜ec̨au̢se̛ tḩo͞rns ̴mean͡ not͢hin̨g̸ ̶to ̨me.”

Jameson tried to keep his eyes away from Anti’s, but the tip of a knife pressing into his cheek prompted him to look back into them.